Bonds of Brotherhood
by Dragon-Raptor
Summary: Story 5 in my AL saga. 'Serenity' returns to the 'Blue Sun' system after a year away, and she's bringing along some very powerful friends... Crossover with 'Battlestar Galactica' in the main, established SimonKaylee & WashZoe
1. Looking Towards Home

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Bonds of Brotherhood 

A Zoids/Earthsiege 2/Battlestar Galactica/Firefly Crossover Fanfiction Story,

Sequel to 'Reuniting the Tribes'

A continuation of the story started in 'Ancient Legacies'

Chapter 1: Looking Towards Home 

On the planet Zi, far from the star system that contained the planet called 'Earth', a gathering of men and women relaxed in the rooftop garden of a large home. The sky overhead was dark as night had fallen, but the open air garden, actually on the buildings second floor, was lit warmly by the soft glow of 'fire' lamps. A barbeque threw out warmth along with a soft red glow, and the large pool that resided in the centre of the garden played host to a number of floating candles.

Raised up above the others, Malcolm Reynolds stood silently, one foot resting on the raised lip while holding a bottle in one hand. The lights softly lit his weather beaten face, throwing his strong nose into relief. A slight smile lurked at the corners of his mouth.

He watched as the Blitz team, the most famous team of Zoid Warriors on the planet, laughed and relaxed together, along with his own crew and a number of the Colonials. He could see Bit and Leena, right in the centre of the fold, with their almost two month old son Jason between them. He was not the only new born in the gathering either. One month old Amy Hunter lay peacefully in her mother Naomi's arms, while slightly apart from the others Sheba was sat beaming, the barely three weeks old Hera in her own arms. Apollo still had a stunned look on his face when he looked at his daughter.

Only a couple weeks older than the new Colonial, George and Nathan Tam filled Kaylee's arms. No one, not even the good doc Simon, had expected twins, yet that is what those two got. The look on Simon's face when he had discovered that he now had two sons of his own had been priceless.

Mal's eyes wandered over to where Zoe was sat, and to her swollen belly. She was coming up to nine months along, and everyone had learned to stay well out her way ever since she and her resurrected husband had finally emerged from the hotel where they had celebrated the victory over the Cylons. It had led to them finally getting four solid months of work for the crew of _Serenity_. It had been nice to settle down for a bit, but Mal had been getting edgy and so the return to the black had been more than welcome.

Ever since the battle things had eased back, but a lot had been done. The Colonials had taken the breather and gone over each and every one of their ships. Many had been scraped, but the military ships had slowly been torn apart and put back together, until now Mal reckoned that the original builders wouldn't even recognise them. Outposts had been set up on many of the moons in the system, prospecting for ores and the precious Tylium that powered the mighty ships.

Mal wasn't afraid to admit that the Colonials wielded awesome power. Even ten months after the initial sharing of technology, they still maintained a significant advantage over the other powers. But no one on the planet cared.

Mal looked upwards, to a new set of stars in the night sky. The ancient colony ship drives-turned space station had officially gone online two months ago, and already it had become the hub for all interplanetary activity. The Colonials had been using it for some time before hand, but now it had all the amenities and luxuries that paying customers wanted.

The greatest change in everything was the formation of a World Government. The five factions - the Helic Republic, the Guylos Empire, the Zoid Battle Commission, the Ancient City and the Colonials - had all drafted a charter for mutual defence, trade and law enforcement. It acted a lot like the United Nations only with less red tape, at least according to Christian Masters. Mal took his word for it. Already the various moons were being earmarked and claimed, and the World Council ensure that the whole process was conducted smoothly and with as little conflict as possible. 

For those few months, Mal and his ship _Serenity _had flown from one ball of rock to another, landing survey teams and other equipment. The Colonials had proven their word, and one of the first things upgraded on the old Firefly transport had been her engines, allowing her to keep pace with the sleek, lethal but graceful Colonial vessels. Now that the crew was landlocked for a stretch, the next series of upgrades were going in.

Mal's smile widened a little as he watched as River danced happily as Jayne plunked a tune on that old guitar of his, Miranda Schubaltz with her. Around the two young women the others laughed or smiled, clapping in time with the music. It still took him by surprise sometimes how much she had changed since they had unexpectedly arrived here. Gone was the haunted, lost little girl with horrendous images burned into her mind, totally at the mercy of her emotions, and those of the people around her. Now thanks to the medical knowledge that had long been lost in their home system, she could not only control her emotions, she no longer read others without wanting to. She could laugh and play just like any other young woman did, pushing the weapon that had been built into her to the darkest corners of her mind. Mal knew, just like everyone else, that it was still there. That buried within her was a terrible weapon, just waiting to be unleashed. But now River had sole control on it, and no one spoke about it.

Mal looked up once more, looking out to the stars. Lately he had found his mind drifting away from this warm, happy and open circle of family and friends, back to his true home. Zi and the Blitz were very welcoming and hospitable, but Mal still felt a tug towards the system where he had grown up. Where his crew had grown up.

He found himself wondering just what was going on out there, across the stars. He knew that the Alliance would only increase it's strangle hold on the system, imposing more and more control from those in power. And Mal just knew that those people would not be satisfied until they ruled every star in the sky. They had already once tried to make people 'better'. It still left a sour taste in his mouth when he thought about what he had seen and learned.

She hadn't mentioned it, but he had seen in Kaylee's eyes that she had wanted to have her folks there for her wedding, though it was quite a bit more fanciful that Mal expected of them. She had gone for the whole nine yards, complete with white wedding dress and huge reception. It seemed like half the gorram planet had been there!

In contrast the wedding of Apollo and Sheba had been small, quiet like. Most of those who attended had been the close friends or relatives of the two. Mal had been surprised at the sheer number of candles though. Where on Earth did they get so many? And more importantly, why?

Still, he had to admit it had the two of them look even better in the glow from all those flames. Sheba had truly looked like a goddess. Inara had finally clued him into the ancient figure who had held that name, back on Earth-That-Was. Though Mal had begun to wonder just what the condition of Earth actually was. An awful lot of holes in history had been filled in for him. Mal was grateful however that certain sections had been lost before the rise of the Alliance. He shuddered at the thought of what the Alliance could have done had they had access to the technology of the Cybrids. Fragments had survived, such as the basic laser systems, but Mal considered it extremely fortunate that the secrets of shields and such advanced AI's did not.

Mal hated to admit it, but a small part of him longed to once more walk the streets of Persephone, to wander the expansive fields of Shadow, the planet he had been raised on before going to war. Oh, he knew that going back held all kinds of risks, not least of which was the Alliance, but he'd seen the look in the eyes of his entire crew. They all at least wondered what was going on back there.

"Something on your mind Captain?" Mal turned his head to regard Colonel Achilles. The Colonial had taken a long time to recover from his injuries sustained during the battle. His ship _Thunderchild _had come within an inch of destruction, but the two of them had refused to die. Now he once more stood tall and proud, his ship ready to slip her moorings in the space station where she had laid for almost seven months being completely rebuilt. In a couple of days she'd begin trials of all the new systems that had been developed from the integration of technology from the Colonies, the Cybrids and the Zoids.

"Just thinking about my home, that's all." Mal answered, taking a swig from his bottle before he continued. "I mean, I like it here. This world is nice and open, but…"

Achilles nodded. "I understand Mal. All of us feel the same way about our homes." A dark look entered the warriors eyes, and Mal winced in sympathy. The Twelve Colonies were gone, bombed back into the Stone Age by the Cylons. Their centurions, sliver plated killing machines, had swept the cities clear of all life, while the disk shaped base ships had hung in orbit, erasing any hint of resistance with their lethal lasers. Or obliterating whole cities with their mega-puslars. No, those twelve worlds were now nothing more than lifeless balls of blasted rock.

Achilles looked down at the party before speaking again. "I think you should know, I got a call from Kane the other day." Mal looked up, his interest piqued. Richter Kane was the head of one of the three largest corporations on the planet, and the owner of the largest set of research facilities ever seen. The man had his fingers in all kinds of high-tech projects, and his company had worked closely with the Colonials with their upgrades. Even _Serenity _now had several components built into her that had been produced by Ultima Industries.

"He's been looking closely at the… event, that brought you here."

Mal considered the word 'event' to be a serious understatement.

"He thinks, and I stress _thinks_, than he's discovered a way to reopen that wormhole, and allow you to return home."

Mal stared at the Colonial, his mind frozen. Go back? He'd never actually thought he could…

"I assume you want to test this first before sending someone through?"

Achilles nodded. "What you and your crew told us about this ' Alliance' has us worried."

"This coming from the people with them." He jerked his head towards the two bright points on the sky that marked the two massive battlestars _Galatica _and _Pegasus_. "Just one of those ships could easily take on the whole Alliance fleet and walk away without a scratch, even before you began to tinker with them."

Achilles smirked slightly. "Yes well, it's not us we're concerned about. It's the people under their rule. At the very least, we are duty bound to warn them about the Cylon threat." It was another thing that no one really talked about, but it was widely understood that someday the Cylons would return. They may have stopped them this time, but who was to say that they would the next?

"You do realise that they'll demand that you turn over everything you have, your ships, weapons, laws and free will, to them?"

Achilles nodded, this time a confident smile on his lips. "Let them try and enforce that."

Mal felt a chuckle in his throat at that. Two years ago, maybe less, had anyone said that to him he would have figured that they were both foolish and stupidly overconfident. But he had seen the Colonial Fleet in action.

The Alliance wouldn't stand a chance.

"Well, if we can help in any way, let me know."

Achilles smiled. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that. Since if we can go through, and do so, we'll need some one to guide us and let us know where everything is." He glanced at Mal. "Interested?"

Mal though for only a second. "Count us in. Assuming that River's got my boat back together."

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Stand by to release the moorings."

Achilles stood before his chair, at the heart of his bridge. Today was the day when his ship would once more sail free amongst the stars. The last items of work were done, and the dock crews were all off ship and back on the station. Now they could see just what the revamped battlecruiser could do. Around him the bridge was a bustle of noise and activity.

"Energisers one and two at stand by level, all systems green."

"All weapon systems powered down. Energy shield generators at stand by."

"All external hatches sealed, airlocks secured."

"Docking Control handing over control of moorings."

He knew that on board the station, indeed around the planet, people were watching the launch. _Thunderchild _had become a symbol of the ability of man to bounce back after any disaster. And she would be the first ship to finish the new refits and test the new systems.

The voices around him faded, and Achilles knew they were waiting for his command. "Here we go… Release all moorings. Helm, fire docking thrusters and move us clear of the station."

Aye sir, moorings disengaging." Several faint 'clunk's could be heard as each of the heavy duty magnetic claps that had held the ship in place for seven months came loose. Small bursts of ion emissions pushed the ship sideways, away from the arms of the slipway.

"We have cleared the slipway sir."

"Very good." Achilles nodded as he leaned on the railing before him. "Bring the Energisers to full power, and kick start the engines. Let's see what she's got now…" Many of the bridge officers smiled at the anticipation in the Colonel's voice. For they felt it as well.

Near the back of the warship the twin Energisers spun up to full power, the reaction of the Tylium pumping out the same amount of power as an equal amount of anti-matter, only far more safely. The array of Ion engines at the rear of the ship, dark for so long, flared blue white as they ignited.

Slowly but with increasing speed, the lean battlecruiser pushed forwards, at last back in her element. All around her smaller ships of the Colonial fleet paced her or danced around, contained within the Guardians that paced their bigger and more modern cousin on each side.

Around the world people cheered at the ship that had almost made the ultimate sacrifice for them surged free and clear once more.

Achilles smiled slightly as the smaller craft began to fall back to their homes. "Major, do you have the trial schedule?"

His XO stepped up to stand besides him. "Right here sir." He answered simply. He held out a slim touch screen pad, used on Zi for several decades now, but still new to the Colonials.

Achilles glanced at it. "So, speed trials first huh… Okay, helm set course for the Alpha Mining base." Alpha Mining base was based in the systems rather thin asteroid belt, and was the first of three such bases built. It was little more than a collection of containers strung together, but it was enough for what was needed. "Ahead full, and I mean full. Push her to the limits."

"Aye sir, coming about."

With the grace of her smaller consorts _Thunderchild _swung round to point her sharp arrowhead prow towards the depths of space. A surge pulsed through her drives, and she seemed to almost leap forwards as the full fury of her ion drives kicked in. It was as if the ship itself were eager to prove itself once more.

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	2. Reflections on Serenity

**DR:** Hello everyone and welcome back! And thank you for all the reveiws you guys left after the first chapter! Made all the agonising about posting it worthwhile!

Now, some news, both good and bad.

Good: I now have a job! (Just finished my first week) So no more under the Jobcentre's heel!

Bad: The hours are VERY long, early, and the job is in central London. So it means that during the weekdays I have almost zero free time. Thus my rate of writing is gonig to suffer. Don't expect rapid updates.

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own any of these shows (Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, Zoids) or games (Earthsiege). No money being made what-so-ever.

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Chapter 2: Reflections on Serenity 

Mal sighed as he looked around the dinning table onboard his ship. It had been almost a week since he had had that conversation with Achilles. The next day _Thunderchild_ had slipped her moorings and began her trials anew. As had been expected, she had matched or exceeded her previous scores in all categories. Now Mal had a decision to make.

He allowed his eyes to wander down the table, looking over each member of his crew. Jayne was much the same as ever, srill a solidly built, gun happy lummox who was at his best when fighting. He had picked up a few new toys since they had come through, and Mal had seen him tinkering with Vera a lot.

Simon and Kaylee were side by side as ever now, their two sons on their laps. Those two were almost inseparable now. Kaylee hadn't changed so much; she was still a bundle of sunshine and happiness. Though now she had even more reason to be cheerful, with two strapping young boys to mother over. Simon still at times was very closed off though. It was hard to know what he was thinking sometimes, and he never seemed to stop thinking. Still, he truly doted on Kaylee and his sons, and Mal understood that he would do anything for them.

River was just beyond them, and out of them all she had changed the most. She and Kaylee had often played together with the babies, and Mal was hard pressed to recall the broken, scared little girl who had been brought onto his boat in a cryo-crate. She still left most of them totally confused and baffled, but only through her incredible understanding of… well, everything. It had taken her only a couple of weeks to figure out the Colonials technology, and a few days after that she was pointing out corrections and making improvements. The girl was brilliant, he gave her that.

Then there was Zoe and Wash. It had shocked everyone when Zoe went into labour five days ago, but she had come out smiling so broadly that Mal thought she was going to split her head apart. Their new son Kyle had yet to change much from the wrinkled, red form he had emerged as. He spent nearly the whole time sleeping, only waking when he wanted feeding.

Lastly there was Inara, sat at his right hand. The two of them had been getting along a lot better since they came here, and Mal had learned the terrible secret that had pushed her to take passage on his boat. Still, they had come through that, and they could talk without snapping at each other quite as much. For the past year they had maintained a truce of sorts; he would not bring up her past role as a Companion, and she didn't mention his illegal jobs back home. It helped that she wasn't seeking clients this side, and here he was getting lots of legal, above-board work. It had been a little dull, but frankly he had had enough excitement for a time.

He let his eyes lift up, to look down the rear passage of _Serenity._ The work for the day had paused, and right now the only ones on his ship were him and his crew. He had not had a chance to fully look around, but so far his ship was still the ship it was before he let River take her apart and put her back together again. There was not much left do fortunately. The entire front half of the ship was complete, and they were already starting to move back in from the hotel rooms they had been staying in for the past four months. It was really only the rear section that needed finishing.

Mal had been pleasantly surprised to see that on the surface, _Serenity _hadn't changed. Her exterior was the same mottled skin as of before, and her lines were the same as those he fell in love with, eight years ago. When he had walked back into the cargo bay, he had felt like he was coming home after a long trip. The clutter that had built up over the years was gone, but Mal knew that soon it would return.

Now though, he had to decide what to do. Although he knew what he wanted to do, Mal was a good captain in that he listened to his crew… mostly. And he wanted to know what they thought of returning.

"So Sir, what was it you wanted to talk to us about?" That was Zoe, her firm tone cutting through the low chatter and right to the heart of the matter.

Mal rested his cup on the table. "Our new friends are thinking about visiting home." Instantly the chatter was gone, everyone of the crew paying attention. "They want to look around, find out if they can establish trade relationships and the like I expect. Achilles asked me if we'd consider being their guide for a while if they go through."

Every one of them mulled it over. Kaylee was the first to speak. "It'd be nice to see my folks… they deserve to know us…" She hugged her son George. Or was it Nathan? Mal was having a hard time telling the two apart.

In contrast to the happy glint in her eyes, River's eyes were hard. She didn't say anything, but Mal could work out what she was thinking. Whenever the subject of the Alliance came up, she lost all cheer. Clearly since getting her mind back into one piece she had recalled everything that had happened to her.

Mal felt sorry for those who had done those things to her. Because when she got to them… well, Mal reckoned it might be nicer to leave them to the Reavers.

Inara looked closely at him. "What you thinking Mal?" Trust her to put him on the spot.

He took a moment to mull over his answer. "Truthfully, I don't know Inara. Much as I'd like to put the whole goram mess out of my mind, I keep on seeing what we saw on Miranda." It was the first time any of them had mentioned that world between themselves. Looking at their unsettled faces, Mal figured that he was not the only one who still had nightmares about it.

"I look back now, and I can't help but compare what we had there to what is here. We saw how things were out on the boarder, and how the politicians lived off those beneath them. I can't help thinking that there has to be a better way. Maybe it's being around these people, but for whatever reason I feel that we should do something, because we can."

He looked over at his crew, his family, and saw in their eyes how they were all agreeing with him. After a few seconds, Simon rose his glass from the table in a toast.

"We aim to misbehave."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Two days later the work on _Serenity _was complete, and the planned expedition was almost ready to depart. In addition to _Serenity _and _Thunderchild_, two of the Colonial's Guardian destroyers, the _Rosetta _and the _Phoenix_, would be sent through the wormhole. The basic plan that had been agreed on was for the two Guardians to head out and survey the system, staying well away from the planets and known trade routes. At the same time, Mal would lead _Thunderchild _to worlds were they reckoned they could get the maximum exposure to the people.

The goal was the mission was diplomatic in nature, but Mal was sure it would rapidly turn into a military issue. The Colonials were going in peacefully, but ready to defend themselves if pushed. And Mal just knew that the Alliance would push them too far.

As he watched Kaylee tinker with the engine, Mal thought back to the large meeting last night between the Council to discuss the expedition. He had been invited to provide more information concerning the Alliance and their worlds. The Helic president had pushed for a less overt military presence, but the issue was mute simply because there were no ships other than the Colonials warships. Commander Cain had started out with his battlestar, but they had bargained him down to just the _Thunderchild _with escorts.

One thing that had surprised Mal was the insistence of the 'locals' for a zoidian presence on the trip. Of course, it had taken them ages to decide who they could send. During the heated discussion between the Helic and Guylos members, Mal had seen Masters roll his eyes before cutting in and suggesting that instead of sending a unit from either empire, they should send only two or three individuals, maybe a small zoid team or members of one who were willing to let them go for a time.

With that idea tabled, it had taken them all of twenty seconds to jump on the idea of sending some from the Blitz Team, which had announced that they were stepping down for a year from major battles. A quick call and they had two members, Vega Obscura and Miranda Schubaltz, along for the trip. Both would bring their zoids, though hopefully they would not be needed. Masters also informed the council of his intention to send an Organoid or two along too. Achilles was happy with that.

Pulling his mind back to the matter at hand, Mal leaned over to see Kaylee more clearly. "Everything okay Kaylee?"

"Shiny, a-okay." Kaylee's chirpy voice answered, her head still buried in the midst of the central engine unit. "Just re-checking a couple of things…"

"Well, if you find anything, let me know." Mal told her before turning and walking back towards the cockpit.

Hearing giggles and young laughter, he paused at the new hatchway in the rear corridor. With all the engine improvements, River and the Engineers had freed up some space in the Firefly's stern. A bit of creative rearrangement, and a new cabin had been opened up on the port side, separated from the kitchen by the main structural ring that linked the stern with the central hull.

This new cabin had been transformed into a softly furnished nursery for the children. It had mainly been Kaylee's doing, as she told him that if her kids were staying in her bunk, then she would never hear them calling for her. Mal had let her have her way, never able to resist her anyway. As such the deck had been coated with a springy carpet, and the lower walls cushioned. The whole room was brightly coloured and sound proofed.

The source of the giggles was River, who was sat lotus style playing with her nephews. Already the two of them were getting quite adventurous. Mal smiled as he watched the three of them for a moment, then he pushed on.

Stepping down into the kitchen/dining area, he found Jayne tinkering with Vera once more on the table, while Inara was brewing some tea. She looked up as he entered, and the two of smiled at each other. The secret smile that they shared, and that they allowed no-one else to know about.

"Ready to return to the Core?" He asked.

"Yes, amazing as that is. I'm actually looking forward to finding out how things have gone at the training house."

"Thinking of introducing our new friends to the delights of your freshly trained Companions?"

Behind Mal Jayne grinned lecherously without looking up from his work. Inara however simply smiled sweetly, as she could see the teasing smirk on Mal's face.

"Only if they ask."

"Good answer." Mal looked at her for a moment longer, before continuing his walk to the cockpit.

Climbing the last set of steps, he could see Wash in his element, sat in the chair surrounded by controls. The panels had been replaced, to allow new buttons and switches to be added. The top rim of the console that surrounded Wash had a multitude of toy dinosaurs on it, mostly stuck down with blue-tac. Mal noted with some amusement that Wash now had a couple of Zoid model kits to go with his classic toys. Zoe was leaning against the cabinets behind her husband, arms crossed and dressed as practically as ever. Behind her, Mal could see the new inner panelling that hid away the wiring and other gubbins, as well as added an extra layer of metal between them and space.

"All set Wash?"

"All set Mal. We're just waiting for the green light from the tower." Wash replied.

Mal stepped up to 'his' spot, between the two consoles, at the top of the steps that led down into the very nose of the ship. This was the only area in _Serenity _where the available space had actually decreased, as River had moved most of the ships electronics there. There was also the added systems that improved things throughout the ship. Taking note of the events that had led to Wash's death, all those electronics were shielded against EMP.

There was also one other system installed down there, the support components hidden amongst the other electrical doo-hickeys. Mal hoped they would never have to use _that _upgrade. Or the one just like it built into the tail just about the main drive.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Mal looked over his shoulder to see Miranda peering in from the hatchway. "Uh, Captain… is it okay if… I…"

"Sure." Mal answered her. Miranda looked relived as she stepped fully into the cockpit. After a few moments the radio clicked.

"Serenity_, this is the tower. You are cleared to launch. Good luck, and Eve bless."_

"Roger that Tower, and thanks." Wash replied before hitting the switches to bring the engines online. The whine of the engines spinning up was a low level background note, before Wash gripped the flight stick and with barely a shiver, _Serenity _left the ground. Mal felt the slight tug as wash brought the nose up and they began to head back into the black.

Twenty minutes later, Wash eased _Serenity _up alongside the massive _Thunderchild_'s prow. On either side of the larger warship, the smaller Guardians sat, waiting. A few seconds after Wash brought them to a relative halt, Colonel Achilles voice emerged from the speakers.

"_Attention all ships. We're now going to attempt to open the door. Hold your positions, but be ready to scarper if things look like their getting out of hand." _On the bridge of the mighty ship, he looked at one of his bridge officers. "Engage."

From the nose of the ship waves of energy were projected from a module that had been attached to the underside of the ships prow. The beams reached across space, searching and feeling for the minuet cracks in the fabric of the universe. After several long seconds, the beams found one, and energy began to be pushed into it at a steady rate.

It started as a pinprick, but then the fabric of space seemed to rip open, and with a muted flash of blue-white light, a rippling funnel form, spiralling down into infinity. After a couple of seconds the funnel smoothed out and looked stable.

On the bridge of _Thunderchild _several breaths were released, and the crew turned to look closely at the readings they were gathering. Colonel Achilles smiled as he watched the funnel.

"The door is open."

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**DR: **And there we have it. Next time, the Alliance gets their first look at a Colonial warship... (evil laughter) As ever, reviews are warmly welcomed! 


	3. We Come in Peace, Honest

**DR: **Well, a new month, a new chapter. Once again I apologise for the slow update rate (when compared to my other stories) but I just don't have the time to work on this much... as all of you with jobs can understand.

* * *

Chapter 3: We Come in Peace, Honest

Mal watched breathless as he stared at the funnel, the 'Wormhole' as he had heard Kane describe it as. He recalled what had happened the last time; how they had been sucked into the widely unstable space-time tear. Now though, the wormhole was almost static, only the hypnotic swirling providing motion.

Achilles voice emerged from the speakers. _"We are sending out the probe craft. Stand by."_

From the far side of _Thunderchild_'sprow one of the Colonial shuttles powered forwards. It's back was a mass of dishes and antenna, and there were no windows along its sides. Mal guessed that it was an unmanned version, packed with sensor gear.

It closed with the mouth of the funnel, and aboard all four ships everyone held their breath.

Suddenly the shuttle was yanked forwards, rapidly falling into the wormhole. For the few brief seconds before it vanished, Mal could have sworn that it was being stretched out. Then it was gone in a flash.

"_We're holding the wormhole open. We still have a data and control link with the probe." _Everyone listened to the reports. _"Coming up to the thirty second mark… we have control back. Getting sensor data… Probe has arrived safely on the other side."_ In the background there was a whooping cheer, and the sounds of applause.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Far across space, the probe craft sat almost still in space, awaiting commands from its distant controllers. The array of powerful sensor gear swept space all around it, cataloguing everything. Already the databanks were filling with a map of the local stars and planets. A range of signals were recorded, the many streams and frequencies each separated and catalogued. Analysis of the recordings would have to wait; The Colonials were still wary about creating machines that could think for themselves.

A set of instructions came back through the wormhole. Powering up, the probe shuttle banked and began a slow circle of the area. The movement allowed the sensors to gain an extra fix on the local celestial bodies, improving the accuracy of the maps. After a couple of minutes of this, it turned sharply and re-entered the wormhole.

No one on the other side knew it, but the brief appearance of the craft had not gone un-noticed.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Achilles watched the Wormhole intently, his fist tucked his nose. He listened as the remote probe operator continued to report the probes progress. It was on its way back. It would take only a couple of minutes to retrieve it, and then… what?

Now he had to make a decision. Wait for the data gathered from the probe to be analysed, or go through now, right after recovering the shuttle? The first choice was undoubtedly safer, at least at first glance. While they had gained a real time look at the area around the wormhole, anything further away than a light second was still unknown. For all he knew, a meteor storm could be about to pass right through that area.

Yet, the longer he waited before heading through, the more the local situation could change. He knew they would have plenty of time to catalogue and analysis data on the far side, so it was not like they needed to wait…

"Sir! The generator's running dangerously hot! We can't hold the wormhole open much longer."

Achilles cursed under his breath before turning to regard the bridge officer. "Alright, shut it down the moment the shuttle emerges." Kane had told him that the mere presence of a craft in the wormhole would hold it open long enough for the craft to reach the other end, but Achilles was not going to take the chance. They only had a couple of those modified shuttles; it would not go down well to lose one.

"Aye sir."

"Probe craft should revert to normal space in five… four… three… two…"

A long thin grey needle sprung out from the depth's of the wormhole, a small flash marking its arrival. The tip seemed to freeze, before the rest of the object piled up behind it, forming the probe shuttle perfectly as it exited the wormhole.

"Probe has reverted to normal space."

Even as the shuttle powered away from it, the wormhole began to shrink, collapsing back into itself. The universe seemed to stitch itself back together, sealing away the secrets within. After a moment there was nothing, just the inky blackness of space.

Achilles turned away from the view. "How long before we can open the wormhole again?"

"The generator is still red hot sir. It's going to take at least three Sectons… er, two hours, before we can open the wormhole for that length of time again.

Achilles sighed. "Very well, notify me the moment we can safely do so. In the mean time I want the science teams working on the data the probe brought back, focusing on the local area. I want to know what may be waiting for us on the other side."

"Aye sir."

Achilles sank into his chair, before turning to regard the comm screens. "Get me _Serenity._"

On board his own ship, Mal had seen the wormhole collapse, and he frowned. "Huh? Why'd it close?"

"The power to artificially hold open a rupture in the fabric of space-time is extremely prohibitive." River's calm voice appeared over his shoulder suddenly, causing him to start. "The nature of the power requirements means that even superconductive circuits would burn out after a short period of time, due the intense energy feedback caused by the resonance…"

"Okay, I get the picture." Mal cut her off, glaring at the slip of a girl. "And don't do that again."

She grinned, much like a little girl. "Do what?"

Mal sighed in frustration. "Sneak up on me like that. It… oh, never mind." He turned to face the comm where he'd seen the blinking light that indicated an incoming call. Stepping over, he opened the channel, coming face to face with Achilles. "Colonel?"

"_Captain Reynolds, it's going to be another couple of hours before we can open the portal again. When it does, I'd like you to go through. Once on the other side, signal us if it's clear."_

Mal nodded, understanding the Colonial's meaning. The Colonial ships could not spin on the spot like _Serenity _could. If he needed, Mal could have them re-entering the wormhole in seconds, while the larger and ponderous battlecruiser would take a minute or two to do the same manoeuvre.

"We'll be ready."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Slowly the Alliance Cruiser _Dominator _advanced on the now empty space. When the small contact had appeared on their screens, it had sent shockwaves throughout the ship. The small craft, hardly bigger than a gunship, had circled the area for a moment, then disappeared. When they contacted Alliance High Command, the order came down to check that area out.

Commander Lefcourt glared out of the view port. Just his luck to be assigned this task. The fact that this was the exact same place that they had lost track of _Serenity _galled him even more. High Command had not been happy with him when that happened. So for the last year they had been dispatched all over the place, to all the remote border moons. It was dull and tedious work.

Even after all this time, Lefcourt couldn't understand it. How could an old junk pile of a firefly vanish just like that? One second the ship had been on their screens, the next she was gone. It was a mystery, and Lefcourt hated mysteries.

The cruiser eased forwards, her monolithic hull making her moves appear glacial. Around her a half dozen of her Gunships darted about like flies around a larger animal. Lefcourt remembered the last time they approached this area. That time there had been nothing, even after several hours of searching. No debris, no bodies, nothing. It was as if the universe had opened up and swallowed the small transport. Lefcourt had first snorted at the analogy made by one his crew, and then had the man dishonourably discharged.

Now, as they once again approached the same set of coordinates, he resigned himself to several more long hours of boredom.

However, fate had other plans.

"Sir, we're picking up… something…" His sensor crewman spoke up.

"Can you be any more vague?" Lefcourt snapped irritably. "Give me a proper re…"

"He never finished his words, because at that moment the space before him flared up like a blue flower. A blinding light was the spark which left several people dazzled for a few seconds. When Lefcourts eyes cleared, he stared at the spinning vortex in space that hung before them.

"WHAT IS THAT?" He snarled.

"Unknown sir! Sensors can't get a reading on it!"

Then there was another, smaller flare, and something came out of the centre of the vortex. It seemed to hang in space for a moment, then moved away from the… thing.

Lefcourts eyes snapped to the small ship. "Get me an ID on that ship, NOW!" He bellowed.

"Running sir…" A pause. "Sir… the Nav Sat and pulse beacon identify that ship as _Serenity_!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Oh juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan..." Mal breathed as he looked over the towering Alliance cruiser that was parked directly ahead of them. Even after everything he'd seen over the last year, the sight of an Alliance Cruiser right on top of him sent a chill up his spine.

After a moments though a sly smirk began to form on his face. Stepping over to the left of the cockpit, he touched one of the new controls. "Achilles?"

After a few moments the screen above the control lit up, and through a faint haze of static he could see the Colonial's face. _"Malcolm. I assume you're through, safe and sound?"_

"Oh we're all fine… but we have a welcoming committee."

One of Achilles eyebrows rose up. _"Alliance?"_

"Yep."

A predatory grin formed on the Colonial's face. _"Well then, let's meet them. I suggest you duck…"_

Smiling, Mal looked over towards Wash. Seeing he was already pitching _Serenity _down, he looked back at Achilles. "Already doing so. Come on through."

"_See you in a half minute."_

X-X-X-X-X-X

Lefcourt stared at the small transport as it flew 'downwards' relative to his ship. _Serenity_, back again? Where had they been all this time?

Never mind. At last he would be able to expunge the blot on his record. "Hail them!" he barked, his crew jumping into action. Once he got the nod from his comm officer he began.

"Firefly Transport _Serenity_, this is the Alliance Cruiser _Dominator._ You are ordered to surrender your vessel and prepare to be boarded. Captain Reynolds, if you do not surrender your ship and crew, we are authorised to use lethal force."

He paused, waiting for a response. Nothing came over the radio.

"I repeat, Firefly transport…"

Suddenly _something _came roaring out of the vortex. A huge, beige mass streamed out, the surface twinkling with yellow lights. Lefcourt's jaw dropped as more and more of the huge ship emerged. The sharp, arrowhead prow seemed to glare right at him, and the sharp lines and lean nature of the ship told him right off that this ship was a killer. The gleaming barrels of many a gun dotted its hull, with a pair of massive tubes in small notches on the underside of the bow on each side.

At last the ship stopped emerging, and he was able to look her over completely. The sharp prow with its odd recesses near the back capped a broad, box like hull. Thick wing like structures reached out to link a pair of flattened lozenge like pods. At the rear the hull rose up some more, the hull there becoming much more uneven, with half buried tubes and boxes jutting out.

The lean ship, which reminded Lefcourt of a crocodile, drifted forwards, _Serenity _almost hidden away underneath the ships mighty hull. Her shadow totally swallowed up the small firefly.

"Sir! Power readings are off the scale! We can't get a solid lock on that ship!"

Lefcourt, indeed the whole bridge crew, stared in abject horror at the titan that now sat before them, exuding menace and deadly grace.

Then the comm system came alive.

"_Attention Alliance Cruiser _Dominator. _This is the Colonial Battlecruiser _Thunderchild. Serenity _is under our protection. Any attempt to either board or destroy her will be considered an act of war." _There was a pause for a moment, then the voice spoke again. _"Trust me, you don't want that."_

* * *

**DR: **Now the Alliance learns what a 'real' warship is... until next time! And keep those reviews coming! Polite ones, please.


	4. First Round – Colonials 1, Alliance 0

**DR: **Hey, I'm back once more, with the eagerly awaited first clash between the Colonials and the Alliance!

* * *

Chapter 4: First Round – Colonials 1, Alliance 0

On the bridge of _Serenity _the entire crew had gathered, watching the confrontation happening before them. They were still drifting away from the two massive ships, but Wash had rotated so that the nose pointed back towards them.

Mal watched with keen interest as the two titans faced off. The Alliance cruiser was an imposing sight, and yet it only was so by being so monolithic. It was a radical departure from traditional ship design, with it's highly vertical, twin wedge shaped tower design. The towers, and their two smaller brethren, were only connected by a massive horseshoe shaped section barely a few decks thick. They were ponderous not just because of their mass; too much stress and they would snap in half.

Now _Thunderchild_ on the other hand… that was a pure, lean killing machine. Built like a brick, and sleeked back, it seemed to be charging forwards even when stood still. And unlike the Alliance Cruiser, it was tested in battle, built by a people who had centuries of experience in space warfare.

He noted that the Colonials had not yet launched their vipers, while the Alliance had deployed what looked like every gunship they had. They formed a halo around their home cruiser, noses pointed at the Colonial ship.

At last the Alliance captain replied. _"Er… Attention 'Colonial' vessel. This region of space is under the jurisdiction of the Unified Alliance of Planets. We have the authority in this system. The crew of _Serenity _are wanted fugitives and criminals. Do not force us to engage your ship."_

"_Why not?" _Achilles replied, his tone calm and serious. _"This ship was built to fight ships twice as big and more than four times the mass of itself. Do you really think that your ship poses us any threat?"_

A pause. _"This is an internal matter. You have already breached Unified Alliance of Planets Law by threatening this ship. You will stand down and prepare to be boarded."_

"_No."_

Achilles sharp, one word reply clearly threw the Alliance captain. _"Excuse me?"_

"_No, we will not stand down, nor allow you to take control of our ship. We came to this system as a peaceful envoy, looking for our long lost brothers in space, and to deliver a warning. We also wanted to see for ourselves just what your 'Alliance' is like as a government. So far, you've confirmed everything we've been told."_

Mal watched keenly as he listened to the chatter. Achilles continued to speak calmly and clearly, his words a clear statement of fact. The Alliance captain's voice however had wavered between scared, blusterous, pompous, and incredulous.

"_Now see here…"_

His words were cut off however when one of the gunship pilots launched a missile.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Incoming warhead!" Rang out across the _Thunderchild_'s bridge. "Port side, heading for the forward launch tubes!"

"Can you shot it down?" Achilles called out to his master gunner, who just grinned.

"That 'missile' is moving slower than a half shot Raider. Just give the order sir."

"Consider it given. And then lock into the targeting systems all those smaller ships." Achilles replied before facing his sensor crews. "Find me the weapons on that 'cruiser'."

"Aye sir."

X-X-X-X-X-X

The Alliance missile rocketed towards the port pod, leaving behind a trail of smoke from the simple chemical engine that propelled it. It was locked in on the central opening of a group of three tubes that led deeper into the pod. The gunship pilot hoped to have the missile slip down the tube and detonate deep within the ship.

It wasn't to be. One of the point defence laser turrets on the battlecruiser shifted and pitched, adjusted slightly, then fired. Twin darts of pure energy lanced out. Due to the design of the turret the one missed, but the other struck the small missile head on. It was instantly obliterated.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Sir, they just shot down our pilot's missile!"

"What was that?" Lefcourt yelled, his eyes glued to where he'd seen a dart of red energy stab out and blast a missile into nothing.

"Computers reckon some kind of pulsed laser sir, but the power readings are off the scale!"

Lefcourts eyes jumped back to the lean ship ahead of him, dancing across the large turrets visible on its back. If they had pulses lasers capable of shooting down fast moving missiles, what were their anti-ship weapons like? The Alliance had been struggling for years to fully develop laser weaponry. The smallest, sustainable pulse model was on a pre-war frigate, and even then it was in a turret that was almost a third as big as the ship itself. While they _had _developed hand-held models, they were not effective as they tended towards being bulky and heavy. Worse and far more damming was that they only had between ten and twenty shots, depending on the model, before requiring recharging, which often took hours.

Then he recalled what his own ship was equipped with, and some measure of his confidence returned. Plasma weaponry was still new, but all new cruisers were fitted with them, and the effects were deadly. One bolt could burn right through a short to mid range transport, the super heated gases igniting the atmosphere within and causing the ship to be ripped apart from the inside. Nothing could withstand that.

He stood up straight, and glared at the 'Battlecruiser' "This is your final warning. You are to surrender yourselves to us, or we will open fire."

The reply came after a few moment, and when it did it sapped a lot of his new found confidence. _"Fire on us, and it'll be your funeral."_

"Sir, we're detecting high intensity scanning beams sweeping over us. Their locking on!"

Lefcourt panicked. "All weapons commence fire! Take that thing out!"

"And our gunships sir?" His flight controller asked.

"Dispatch two to bring _Serenity_ in. Have the others assist us."

X-X-X-X-X-X

From dozens of points across the hull of the Alliance ship, missiles erupted from tubes before arcing round to bear on the Colonial ship. A few seconds later the two main plasma projectors spewed forth bolts of high density plasma, the shots leaving a green trail behind them. A few moments later the surrounding gunships all fired off a missile, before two broke away and rocketed after the small transport. The others began to close on the titan before them.

In response, red darts leapt from the _Thunderchild_, each one ending in the flare of a destroyed missile. Larger, heavier bolts stabbed out, and with each caress a gunship disintegrated. Their hulls just could not withstand the sheer raw power of the Colonials weapons.

Then the plasma bolts impacted on the battlecruiser. The crew of the Alliance cruiser watched as the green bolts struck, then began to spread out across the hull of the other ship. Then it dissipated, leaving behind nothing but a blackened scar. Jaws fell when they saw this. Their most powerful weapons, stopped cold!

Then _Thunderchild _replied, with one of her forward beam lasers. A brief, growing glow was all the warning the Alliance crew got before a brilliant orange-red beam lashed out just below the connecting lower decks. The spear of energy was then swung upwards, slicing through the Alliance ship's hull like a hot knife through butter. By the time the beam cut off, the lower decks had been cut clean through, and the smaller, outer tower on the starboard side began to drift away from the rest of the ship, flames burning in the destroyed compartments.

To finish her one-two punch, the forward upper Megalaserturret fired. The blue-white bolts smashed into the starboard plasma projector… and continued to burn deep into the heart of the port main tower. Twenty-five terawattsworth of energy was unleashed in a fraction of a second. The resulting blast took a massive bite out of the tower, vaporising vast sections of the ship and gutting the top third of it. The cruiser was literally thrown reeling from the hit for a moment.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Commander Lefcourtdragged himself back to his feet, clutching his side where a stabbing pain threatened to overwhelm him. Wincing, he tried to push back the splitting head ache before yelling "Damage report!"

When no one answered, he looked around. The lighting had half failed, but it was enough to see that the formally neat and pristine command deck was now a mess. Most of the computer screens had blown out, and a vast section of the deck above had caved in. Smoke hung thickly in the air, and several of his crew lay dead on the deck. Others showed signs of life, but many were unable to attend to their stations.

"I said get me a damage report!" He bellowed again, gasping as his extra deep breath caused his broken ribs to rub against each other. One woman, her long red hair escaping from the braid she'd had it in – her regulation cap was missing – scrambled over to a still working terminal. Lefcourt groaned internally when he saw her smoke smudged face; it was her, the one who frequently questioned orders, and had to be constantly watched to ensure that she did her duties. Lefcourt had looked into her file. She'd been drafted from Hera, the Independents former 'capital'.

It didn't help matters that she was a stunning looking woman too. She had the looks to work as a Companion. So far however she had shown herself to be a cold fish, spurring any advances.

"Heavy damage Commander… I'm getting no data at all for tower four, and we've… sir, the top of tower two is in ruins." There was a note of shock in her voice… and was that awe, and even respect?

Lefcourt turned to look back out the view port, towards the practically untouched vessel that sat before him. All his gunships, including the two who he had ordered after _Serenity,_ were gone, and his own ship was in ruins.

A signal came in, static laced. _"Alliance cruiser, we now offer you a chance to walk away. Just turn about and leave. You can't hurt us, and we could destroy your ship at any time. Go, and tell your superiors that if they leave us and _Serenity _alone, we'll leave you alone. But if your 'Alliance' threatens us or our friends we will not hold back in the future." _As the voice spoke behind the battlecruiser two smaller ships emerged from within the vortex. Each one was a sleek, compact design lacking the outrider pods with a vertical block to the rear.

Lefcourt slowly turned to look about the bridge. Only a half dozen crew men were currently at their stations, each looking as shell-shocked as he felt. Slowly he sighed. "Come about. Plot a course for the nearest marshalling point."

Slowly the heavily damaged cruiser pivoted on the spot. Due to the way the ship turned, the bridge crew got a good look at the severed section that was drifting away slowly. Then it began to thrust away, the infirmary overflowing with wounded, leaving behind a trail of wreckage… and one escape pod.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Athena breathed out when she saw the Alliance ship turn tail and run. Achilles had called her and the _Phoenix_ through, and what she had found on the other side had been a shock. They had been monitoring the exchange from their side, but to see the scattered wreckage and twisted ruin of the Alliance craft was a whole new thing.

Behind her ship the wormhole closed up, no longer held open by the generators on the _Thunderchild_. They had been close to burning out, hence why Achilles had called the other ships through.

A transmission came through. _"Well, they know we're here now. Okay, _Rosetta _secure the area, _Phoenix _approach that severed hulk and send in armed Search and Rescue teams. There may be people trapped in there. We're launching our rescue shuttles to see if anyone survived or ejected. Captains conference in two hours."_

X-X-X-X-X-X

She sat curled up in the tiny space of the pod, her hair drifting about her in the zero gravity. Amanda Watson had finally found the chance she had been looking for during the last five years to break ship and escape Alliance control. She had been pressed into service on board the new ships because of her technical skills. She had been running her own small refitting shop, and making a nice profit, when the Alliance had swooped down on her and locked her away, confiscating her tools, workshop and home.

Later, she had been told that some of the ships shed worked on had been in the hand of pirates, which made her an accessory to their crimes. It was a load of go tsao de tzao gao, but that was all the Alliance needed. Fortunately they had madeher an offer; join the fleet as a crewman, provided she hand over all records of every ship she worked on, or face fifty years sentence in one of the new prison mines. She had heard rumours about those mines, about the kind of scum sent there, what they would do to an attractive woman…

So she'd accepted the offer, despite the sour taste it left in her mouth. All of her work had been above board, legal like, so it wasn't like there was anything to hide. But then once she was on ship, the gorram control freaks clamped down and she might as well have gone to the prison, the amount of freedom she got. The other crew seemed happy with their lot, and constant reported her to the officers for her 'bellyaching' and 'whining'.

Now, she knew nothing about these Colonials', but anything had to be better than what she had left behind…

A shadow fell across the small view port, and she uncurled herself as much as she could, pushing the duffel in which she had quickly thrown everything she owned into behind her. For several long moments there was nothing, then with a gentle tug gravity began to return… the wrong way up. She quickly rotated to stand as the pod came to rest on the deck.

A faint hiss, and then footsteps and voices. After waiting for a few seconds, they finally unlocked the pod, and the hatch swung open. Amanda found herself facing the business end of two blocky, low tech looking pistols held by men in tan uniforms with leather jackets. Raising her hands, she slowly stepped out.

There were three, two men and a woman. The woman was dressed just like the men, though her pistol was still in a leg holster. She looked Amanda in the eye coolly. "Are you planning on causing trouble?" She asked slowly.

Amanda grinned. "Actually I was hoping to defect to your side."

* * *

**DR: **There we go, the first clash is over. I hope I got the Alliance Commanders reactions and bluster right. As Lando once said 'Arrogance and Stupidity, how effiecent'. The bulk of the Alliance high command have both in spades.

Now, I must warn you all that my new job is comsuming my time in a very rapid manner. The net result is that I've barely done much to this story (some of the next chapter, plus an outline of the rest). I'll try to get a chapter done for next month, but no promises. Until then... or whenever!


	5. Councils of Peace & War

**DR: **Good news and bad news people. First the Good news: The job I started three months ago, well I've made it through the probation period! I am now set till xmas!

**Hermione**: Well done!

**DR: **The bad news is that, I got the job. Therefore I won't be having any more time to write this than I've had for the last three months.

**Harry: **That's no so good...

**DR: **But don't worry, I'm not abandoning this! Now, we have some Achilles/Athena fluff, and a look in on the Alliance Govenment...

* * *

Chapter 5: Councils of Peace & War

Achilles looked up as the hatch hissed open, and a smile creased his face as Athena stepped in. Her eyes met his, and they shared a burning look of passion, locked in their own little world for a moment. Then the rest of the world reared its head, and they both put their passions to one side.

"Thank you all for attending." Achilles started as he looked around the modest oval table. The _Thunderchild _didn't have the huge council chambers that the larger battlestars did; she was built only to lead fleets, not host the council. Still, they had everything they needed.

"As you know, we had hoped to not engage the Alliance in an open fight just yet. Sadly, the reality is that we've already had to demonstrate our superiority to them."

"They'll be back Colonel." Mal leaned forward in his seat as he spoke. "They'll want what you have, and will go to any length to get it."

Achilles nodded. "I suspected as much. None the less, I hope our little skirmish has at least convinced them to back off for the moment. So we are going to proceed with the original plan."

He quickly hit a button before him, and the screen behind him lit up and displayed a map of the System they were in. It showed, in exacting detail, the position of every planet and moon orbiting the three stars. Athena leaned back in her seat as she looked over the vast number of planetoids displayed.

'_They weren't kidding when they said "dozens" of planets!' _After a moment to digest the sheer volume of worlds, she looked closely at the arrangement.

In the centre of the display was a blue giant star, with nearly three dozen planets orbiting around it. A couple appeared to be gas giants, totally unsuitable for supporting human life. Most of the worlds also had at least a couple of moons orbiting them.

Further out were a pair of smaller, yellow dwarf type stars. They appeared to be either passing one another, or were locked in each others gravity well and were orbiting the blue star together as twins. In a loose halo around those two were another couple of dozen worlds, with a mass of smaller moons scattered with them. Some were decent sized bodies, others were little more than over-sized asteroids. Even further out were a couple of small, out of the way planets that orbited the entire system. _'No wonder they haven't pushed out of this system. There's more than enough space here for the Colonies several times over.'_

"As we discussed before they made the transit, the _Rosetta _and the _Phoenix _will do a sweep through the outer sections of the system." As Achilles spoke white lines began to trace paths around the central planets orbits, weaving between the outer planet cluster before looping around and returning to their starting point. "I'll take the _Thunderchild _and follow Captain Reynolds into the outer planets." A single, slightly thicker line in blue cut a more direct path towards the outer planet cluster.

Achilles turned his chair to face Mal. "Captain Reynolds, do you have anything to add?"

Mal nodded as he stood up. "Yeah. Try to avoid this area." He traced an empty expanse with his finger on the screen, close to one of the outer rim planets. "This planet here is Miranda, the source of the Reavers. This whole area is where they mainly gather, sending out raiding parties every so often. I suspect you could handle yourselves against them, but I wouldn't go looking for trouble.

"Also here and here…" He tapped the screen over two central worlds. "…are the Alliances capital worlds. It's likely that they'll have a lot of ships sitting around those two worlds."

"Thank you Captain." Achilles replied as Mal retook his seat. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as he interlaced his fingers. "Let me blunt people…"

"Since when are you ever anything else?" Athena cut in, a smile on her face. Achilles smiled back as the others gathered around the table chuckled. Achilles had already gained a reputation for being direct and to the point. His smile towards Athena however, conveyed his feelings for her.

"Yes… anyway. We're walking into a potential minefield here. That Alliance Cruiser we tore up should hopefully give them the message not to mess with us. However, I want everyone to remain alert. Whatever you do don't provoke conflict if you can avoid it. However, you are fully authorised to defend yourselves if attacked. And no matter what you see or hear, we're not here to topple the government… unless they provoke us. I don't what to be accused of starting another war."

The meeting went on for several more minutes, before Achilles nodded. "Okay everyone, I think that covers every thing. Captain Athena, would you stay a moment please?"

As they filed out the other captains, Mal included, had small smiles on their faces. They all had a good idea as to what was about to happen.

Sure enough, the hatch had barely closed before Achilles found himself with Athena sitting sideways on his lap, her lips pressed against his own. Never mind that just that morning they had woken up together in each others arms in the house that they had moved into almost a year ago.

After a couple of minutes their heads moved apart, and Achilles looked into her shining eyes. "Stocking up or something?" He teased.

"Or something." She smiled down at him for a long moment. Then her smile dropped as she sighed. "You took a big risk you know…"

He did know. Earlier on he had been asked why he had not had his ships energy shields raised during the clash with the Alliance Cruiser. The plasma based weapon system they carried could have been a devastating weapon; it had the potential. Their missiles were laughable, but Mal and his crew had mentioned in passing other, more worrying high-energy weapons.

Achilles had responded by saying that he wanted to keep their true technological advantage hidden for now, the show of power for the cruiser not-withstanding. In Mal's words, he wanted to keep a few 'tricks up his sleeve'. The energy shields were one of the items he hoped to keep under wraps for the time being.

He didn't say anything to Athena in reply, just hugged her to him a little tighter. Relenting, Athena allowed him to draw them together. It was a situation they had found themselves in a lot recently, and she had relished it every time. The thought of not being able to do this for some time, maybe months, sent a chill running up her spine.

After gently laying a kiss on her exposed neck he muzzled her. "You take care of yourself you hear? While I pray that they won't dare try anything, I fear that the Alliance will try to take on one of our smaller ships, believing them to be weaker than this one. I know I can't ask you to, but please, try to avoid a fight. I'd never forgive myself if something happened…"

Touched by his concern, Athena pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I promise to be careful." She smiled warmly down at him. "And while we're on the subject, you take care of yourself. No more charging head first into suicidal battles for you." In her eyes, he could still see the reflection of the horror she had experienced when he'd challenged those three Base Ships.

That sight stopped Achilles from making any kind of flippant, jovial reply, like he might have done with Apollo or Starbuck, or even Sheba. Instead he looked her square in the eye. "You have my word." He told her softly.

X-X-X-X-X-X

As far as the majority of the people in the system knew, the Government ran the Alliance from Osiris, the capital planet, the first planet colonized and symbolically the third from the systems Primary. The best of nearly everything was there, the best hospitals, schools, academies and cities. Many companies had been based there, before being bought out by Blue Sun. And even they had a massive Headquarters complex in one of the most prestigious regions.

But what was not known was that the government buildings, the great meeting halls and parliamentary structures, were all a sham. Fake. Lower level officials filled the offices and the representatives of the planets were gathered there, but the real decision makers, the cabinet, were not. Nor were the board of directors for Blue Sun.

In reality these two groups were almost one and the same. Of the twelve men and women who sat on the cabinet, seven were on the Blue Sun Board of Directors. So it was not surprising that Blue Sun supplied every government need, from ships and guns to liquor and sweets. Similarly Blue Sun controlled nearly every factory or outlet in the system, and got exempt from all taxation laws for their 'services', legal or otherwise.

The Cabinet actually lived and worked from a small moon that orbited Osiris. The moon itself was a bit of an oddity, as it was so far out that it was all but invisible to the naked eye from the planet's surface, even before mankind arrived. Around it was a cluster of smaller asteroids and rocks, some as small as cars, others nearly the size of mountains. The theory put forward by astronomers, back when the colony ships first arrived, was that the moon and its surrounding rocks could have become another moon, but the gravitational field was too weak to bring them together enough to do so. So now the moon sat within a localised field of rocks. The perfect hiding place… or fortress.

For this moon _was _a fortress. Blue Sun workers, nearly all indentured and thus paid nothing and driven to exhaustion, had hollowed out the moon, mining out thousands of tons of raw ore. After the miners came more workers, building a vast network of labs, offices and barracks. Closer to the surface the construction was more… military, with a sinister purpose.

Outside the moon, the very asteroids themselves had been turned into a veritable minefield of concealed weapon emplacements, hidden docking stations and deadly traps. No attacker who tried to force his into the heart of the cluster would make it without horrendous losses.

Deep in the heart of the complex the cabinet were sat at their table, watching the report made by the soon to be former-Commander Lefcourt. He'd made his report direct to the Chief of Staff, the director of all the Alliances military operations. Even before seeing the full, complete report the order had been passed down the chain. Lefcourt's days were numbered in single digits. He just didn't know it yet.

Normally lit only in dim light, the Cabinet were at this moment plunged into almost complete darkness, lit only by the hologram that displayed the full, exacting and horrifying report of the _Dominator_'s encounter with the unknown ship known only as _Thunderchild._

At first there had been scoffs of derision for the ships layout and look. It was heavy, industrial. No smooth shapes or protective sheath of armour covered it's exposed, patch work hull. To those men and women, it looked slow, lumbering and ugly. Almost equal derision was directed at this 'Colonel Achilles', who appeared to be a stubborn fool, challenging one of the Alliance's mighty cruisers. Only one member of the Cabinet had become worried, the Culture Minister. She had been trained to understand people, to gauge their moods and personality. And everything she was getting off Achilles was worrying.

Then the shooting started. And the lumbering and ugly brick turned out to be a fire spitting block of death.

The Chief of Staff watched in slack jaw horror – and a grudging respect – as the hostile swatted their Gunships away like flies, picking off missiles with ease. The two plasma bolt hits were watched intently, but when they were revealed to have done almost nothing it was a bitter pill.

And then the ship had returned fire, and promptly ripped the _Dominator_ apart, without even trying, with just _two shots._ He'd already known the extent of the damage, but to see just how easily the other ship had done that much damage, and so quickly… it gave a whole new meaning to the phrase 'brown trousers time'.

During the last few seconds of the report, he looked away from it and towards his fellow cabinet members. While they were only lit by the glow of the hologram, the shock, horror and outrage were clear on all their faces, in varying quantities. The only one who was completely hidden was the President. The Chief of Staff had never actually seen the man's face, not clearly at any rate.

For a long moment after the report nobody spoke. Then the Minister of Public Concern spoke, his gravely voice filled with acid. "General, what of the fate of this… coward? And his crew?"

"Commander Lefcourt's execution is scheduled for Thursday morning."

"Three days? Why the delay?"

"It'll take that long for his ship to reach the marshalling point where we can arrest him." The General answered simply.

"Lord, we cannot let this information get out." The reedy Minister of Truth spoke rapidly, his thin voice rising even higher. "Our standing with the people is still weakened by the revelation of Miranda and the Reavers. If word of this ship gets out…"

"It will not get out." The Presidents voice was like glacial ice, unforgivably cold and totally impossible to resist. "No matter what, we must not loose control now. Everything is almost ready. If things were to plunge into chaos now, all we have worked for will be lost forever. Minister, dispatch one of our _Nightbringer_'s to rendezvous with the _Dominator._"

"Orders?" The Minister of Security asked, without a trace of trepidation or concern.

"Total destruction. No survivors. We can not let news of these new ships reach the people. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"As for you General…" The President rounded on the Chief of Staff, who was looking equally sick and horrified that his people were just going to be slaughtered by one of their own. "…You are to capture one of those smaller ships." He pointed one near skeletal finger at the now still holo, directed at one of the smaller ships that had entered the local area behind the much larger ship. "The Minister of Espionage will release some of his toys for your deployment." The Presidents tone brooked no argument… from either man.

"Yes sir."

"Whatever happens from now on, understand this: If these ships, their crews, are allowed contact with the people, then we must eradicate any and all who come into contact with them. I want the main ship followed by a _Nightbringer_, with orders to destroy any ship or colony that they stop at and ensure that any corruption or dissent they foster is burned away. If word gets out, it will be on your heads. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

**DR: **Is everyone creeped out now? Good, that's what I was hoping for. Next time, we rejoin _Serenity_ for meal time, and (with a little luck) their arrival on the first port of call...

**Harry: **And don't forget to review! _(Goes back to making out with Hermione)_


	6. Comfort

**DR: **Welcome back everyone. I hope all those of you across the ocean (ie the Atlantic) are feeling okay after all the wild partying I expect you've been having...

(Harry& Hermione run in and hide behind sofa)

**Harry: **We're not here DR!

**DR: **What's the matter? You two don't hide from anything...

**Hermione: **It's JKR

**DR: **Ah. Well, I deal with her. (walks out muttering about authors who don't reseach their settings correctly and have demented ideas' about romance)

**Zeke: **DR would have said to all you zoid fans that sorry about the lack of zoidian presence in the story so far, but that this chapter sould make things up a bit...

* * *

Chapter 6: Comfort

Ghost sat silently, watching the crew as they sat down to eat. Like most human rituals, at first glance it was chaos, but Ghost could see the underlying order and pattern to the seemingly random actions. Captain Reynolds got the first pick, as was right and proper as the ship's captain. Then the females got in, slightly ahead of the other males. Most beings would not have been able to see it, but Ghost had lived his whole long life watching, observing.

A glimmer of light made him look up a bit, up and out of the row of windows that ran across the bow end of the dinning area's ceiling. A tiny, almost imperceptible shiver ran down his long spine as he gazed out into the black abyss of space. None of his kind had ever left their world before, and he felt its absence. General Masters' words had not helped either really. "You'll be the first. That's something no-one can ever take from you."

It didn't help because Ghost was already the first in a number of things.

Ghost was an organoid with a unique gift. He lacked the robustness and strength of most of his kind, and his flying left much to be desired. However, all that was off set by the simple fact that he had built into his own systems an optical cloak. He could, with a thought, become almost totally invisible in the time taken for a human eye to blink. Thick rubber-like soles on the pads of his feet, combined with his lighter than average frame, made him almost undetectable. Thus it was natural for him to be recruited by Masters for the role of covet recon and infiltration. The last few years had not required his actions so much.

But now his gifts were needed. Everyone on Zi knew about the planned trip to the 'Blue Sun' system, and enough had leaked out about the kind of government that ruled there for most to already be pretty opposed to them. But Ghost had an extra agenda. Before departing to board _Serenity _Masters had called him to his private office.

There Ghost had met Richter Kane properly for the first time, and he had proceeded to expand his world, and mission, beyond what Ghost had believed possible.

Masters had sent Ghost in addition to his other representatives specifically to look for clues, hints about just what the power behind the government really was. Ghost was one of those gifted - or cursed, depending on how you look at it – with the ability to sniff out corruption. He could all but taste it in the air.

Right now though the only things in the air were the smells that arose from the food now being shovelled onto plates as the humans rapidly sat down. Reynolds was at the head of the table, his back to the bow. Miss Serra was on his right, sitting as close as she could without it being noticeable to the other humans. Ghost however could see it. And while he couldn't see her face, he knew whenever she looked at the captain. Her heart rate spiked every time.

On the other side of the table was Jayne Cobb, the hardened, brutal merc, crude, money driven and lewd. There was no doubting his abilities with a weapon of any sort. But he was sometimes a problem when not in some sort of fight. Ghost guessed that Reynolds had made him sit to his left so that if he started to make trouble, Reynolds could come down on him, hard. No human could have picked out the subtle clues, but Captain Reynolds was one of only a few people that Jayne feared.

A second was sat at the far end of the table, smiling brightly as she played with one of Simon and Kaylee Tam's children. She was River Tam, and while she didn't look it, there was a deadly power within her. Ghost had been shown a recording of one of her training sessions, where she had been taught to control the weapon that had been inserted into her head by the Government of this system. She had been as fluid as she was deadly.

But right now she was just any young human woman, fawning over the infants. Their mother herself sat with one on each knee, a wide smile on her face. It never seemed to leave her face. Every time Ghost had seen her Kaylee had been smiling, to one extent or another.

Across from the open Tam family was the smaller, more tightly knit - and more private - Washburne family. Kyle still spent most of his time asleep, watched over by his mother. Wash curbed his natural exuberance around his still fragile son.

Lastly was Miranda Schubaltz, sat between Miss Serra and Wash. It was clear to Ghost that she too had to adjust to shipboard life. While she had a little more experience then himself, the actual methods of surviving for long periods of time in space were still new to her. She appeared to be still a little intimidated by Miss Serra, though nothing like the extent she had been when she had first met her.

Someone, Ghost wasn't sure exactly who, made a joke about something, and the group dissolved into laughter. There was a relaxed and easy atmosphere between them all. And Ghost was quite content to stand in the corner, watching.

After a few minutes of mostly single minded eating on the parts of the crew, Wash spoke up. "So Mal, may I ask why you wanted us to visit Persephone first? It ain't been exactly the luckiest place in the 'verse for us."

Mal rested his left arm on the table, his face half hidden by the tin cup he held in his right hand. "We've had some good times there too, Wash. Besides, it's also an ideal place to start in showing the Colonials around. Mix of both sides of what life is like here."

As Mal took a drink, Ghost noted something in his face, hidden from the rest of the crew by the cup. It was fleeting, but it clearly showed that there was another reason to go to Persephone first. Something personal.

X-X-X-X-X-X

A while later and nearly everyone had turned in. Wash and Zoe had taken their son to bed, while Kaylee had drifted back to the engine room for a spell, leaving Simon to tuck the kids in. Mal had managed not to react to her blatant promise to Simon of some 'fun' once she got back to their new, expanded bunk.

Mal had to hand it to her, River and the crew she had worked with had known a thing or two about ships. The work crews, mainly Colonials, had welcomed the chance to breath new life into an aging ship like _Serenity_, and in the process had exceeded even Mal's dreams. She was faster, tougher and more agile, making Wash crow with joy the first time he got behind the controls. The creaks and moans were gone, and now things did not just fall off his ship without good reason.

Mal had been surprised when he learned that they had actually made the ship bigger, by almost twelve metres. The bulk of that extra length had been taken up by increasing the crew quarters capacity. The 03-class Firefly had been designed with some crew co-habitation in mind, and so the design featured three single person bunks, and two doubles. _Serenity _now boasted three doubles and three singles, all neatly packed into the neck without altering the external lines to a noticeable degree. And to Mal's relief, all the rooms were well sound proofed, even more than before. Simon and Kaylee's 'bunk antics' no longer disturbed his sleep at all. Not even the crying of their sons intruded into his bunk.

River had moved up from the passenger bunks to take the new single bunk formed beyond Jayne's, while for now the last bunk that had not been used by anyone before was currently Miranda's.

Inara was, for now, still living out of her old shuttle. The other was, at least notionally, for Ghost's private use… if he ever had need of it.

Speaking of which… Mal looked across the dining area towards the port stern. The Organoid was still there, a dark grey-green form, silently watching. Christian had assured Mal that the organoid, despite being a good ten foot long, would not get underfoot, and so far he had. Still, it was sometimes disconcerting to see that primordial form with the glowing pale yellow eyes watching them from some shadowy corner.

"You don't have to worry about him Mal." He refocused his attention on Inara, the only other one still at the table. "He's quite harmless, and very discreet."

"And how would you know that?" Mal asked good naturedly, though he assumed a suspicious tone.

Inara looked into his eyes, and saw the playful mote dancing in them. She smiled as she replied sweetly. "Simple. I've been talking to him quite a bit lately. He came over to my shuttle, asking for some background on the Guild."

Mal shook his head. "Somehow I can't see one of his kind being interested in human whores."

Inara rolled her eyes but said nothing.

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. For almost a minute Mal struggled to commit to asking the question he wanted to ask, and even when he did finally do so he struggled to find the words.

"So… about that… the whoring, I mean… are you…"

"No Mal." Inara gently laid a hand on his to stop him, as she looked at him directly. "I've already sent my formal resignation as an active Companion to the Guild. Besides, I missed the last yearly medical required to remain so."

"Ah." Mal's mood improved. "So no more clients?"

Inara smiled once more. "Oh, maybe, if I feel like it…" She teased. She dropped the act however when she saw the hurt and dismay in his eyes. "Sorry. No, I won't be taking any more. The Guild may call me and ask that I do, but I still have the choice."

Mal relaxed, the sudden tension draining away. It had been his one worry about returning, her going back to her old ways. Before he could just about handle it, though it still cut him up inside. Now however, he knew that if she did take on a client, he would fell betrayed. In Inara's eyes, he could see that she knew that too.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Cruising behind _Serenity_, the sleek form of _Thunderchild _all but idled, her engines running at barely a quarter of their potential power. Achilles was taking things easy, not wanting to spook the local people just yet.

Deep within the bowels of the battlecruiser, a newly designed docking bay was dimly lit, the silence marred only by the faint rumble of the ships engines. The four forms that filled the bulk of the bay were still, the one highlighted by two points of faint red, another green wisps.

A new sound echoed through the bay, and those four sparks grew rapidly, growing into long angular triangles. When they reached full brilliance, the two zoids turned their heads to regard the alcove from where the sound came.

As the whine rose in volume, the source appeared at the top. A platform, a couple of metres across, slowly descended. Stood on it, one hand resting on the solid panel that formed the sides of the lift, was Vega.

As the lift reached the floor, the whine of its descent faded, and it settled with a faint clunk. Stepping off, he looked up into the light of two pairs of eyes. "Hi Fury." He called, before looking across at the much smaller Blade Raptor, stood a little apart from his own zoid. It was a little unusual to see even a second level zoid act independently, even for Vega. The reason for the free action was thus: while they were in this system, the Command Systems on the two zoids had been almost shut down, most of the programming disabled. They would still cut in if the Zoid took serious damage, though both Vega and Miranda knew the code to punch in to override it if need be.

Nodding to the smaller zoid, Vega looked back up at his Fury. For many people, even those within the Blitz team, meeting the Fury in a dark, slightly chilly and echoingly empty cavern such as this would have been terrifying. The Fury could only be made out as a black silhouette, the only motes of colour the bright red eyes looking down from the predatory head.

Vega however had no fear, for he knew that the Fury would never hurt him. He trusted the zoid, one of the most terrifying in existence, with his life. And so he made it a point to come down each day and spend some time with him. "How are you?"

The Fury growled back, a deep rumble coming from its gut. **#Cold. It's chilly down here. And so quiet.#**

Vega sighed. "I know. I feel the same way upstairs." He turned and sat down on one of the massive toes of the Fury's foot. Above him, the Fury sank down until it was resting on its belly, the neck curled to bring the head as close to him as it could. "It seems odd not seeing Bit and Leena and Brad and Mom…"

The Fury watched as Vega trailed off, knowing in its core the name that Vega was really thinking of. They were both outsiders here, passengers on board one of the greatest war machines mankind had ever built. The Fury felt no real envy for that. Despite what it might say aloud, inside it was deeply impressed at humanity's persistence and ingenuity. This ship was a testament to the human race's all consuming need to explore, to understand, to know… and to maintain the freedom to do so.

The Ancient Zoidians had never had such a drive. They had sought knowledge when they needed to, but not for the sake of it. Maybe that was why their race was all but extinct, while Humanity was spreading throughout the galaxy.

The Blade Raptor had slowly stepped over, and now it lowered its lean head, gently nuzzling Vega's shoulder. Of course, for a human a zoid's 'nuzzling' normally equalled being struck with a sledgehammer, however here the Raptor took great care to be gentle with the man who had captured its pilot's heart.

Vega half smiled as he reached up and rubbed the small zoid's snout, just below the rim of the cockpit. "I know, you miss her too." It still baffled the Colonials sometimes, but there was no question in Vega's mind that Zoids were alive, and not a collection of parts. They may have had steel, servos and oil for bones, muscles and blood, but they were as much alive as he was.

Sometimes he envied them. The world of a zoid was so much simpler than that of a human. They lived, in the main, by their instincts. Politics was almost totally unknown to them. But now and again there came a display of something much deeper, which showed that mankind still really did not know the full extent of the zoidian mind. Such as now.

For some time Vega sat there quietly, sharing the space with the two zoids. Eventually, he slowly stood up, a yawn threatening to escape his throat. "I'd best get back upstairs. We'll be arriving at our first stop tomorrow." He smiled at the sight of the two zoids seeming to perk up at that. "Sorry you two, but it's a bit too crowded for you to stretch your legs." The zoids appeared to slump down again. "I'll try and talk Mal into taking us some place where you can run around for a bit." A happy sounding rumble sounded from within the Fury's belly.

Chuckling slightly, Vega walked back towards the lift. Just before he hit the button to ascend back into the main areas of the ship, he looked back at the two zoids. "Sleep well." He called, before the lift rose away out of sight with the same whine as before.

The two zoids watched his ascent, and then returned to the areas they had each marked as 'theirs'. Once settled, both sets of eyes dimmed back down to mere motes as they returned to a stand-by, energy saving mode that was the closest approximation to 'sleep' that a zoid could achieve.

* * *

**Hermione: **(has a happy sparkle in her eye as she sits wrapped in Harry's arms) Amazing...

(Harry just nods, while DR walks back in, brushing his hands)

**DR: **I've shown JKR the door you two. All safe in this house. If she comes back, well... (Tips head towards Shadow) ...he'll show her out

**Shadow: **Humph!


	7. Persephone

**DR:** Welcome back everyone! We finally arrive at a planet, and... (a crash from the other room hearlds the entrance of Hermione, smiling and shicking her head)

**DR: **What's going on?

**Hermione: **Oh, just that Harry let Jania try to control his firebolt.

**DR: **sigh I need to make this place bigger...

* * *

Chapter 7: Persephone

It was not a strange sight for the workers, traders and other patrons of the Evesdown Docks to see a Firefly class ship land there. The docks were the preferred place for such ships, though trade had fallen with each month as the official trading and passenger ships landed more and more at the Government run landing pads.

What did draw the eye however was the vessel that flew down gracefully alongside the old transport. It was little more than a bevelled box car with engines stuck on the rear, but there was something about it that hinted that it was far more than meets the eye. It paced beside the Firefly, seemingly flying without effort, dwarfed by its companion. The two ships settled down side by side, The Firefly kicking up dust from its engines, rotated to point downwards for landing. The newcomer however just settled down, barely disturbing the top soil.

As the whine of the engines faded, a careful observer might note that the Firefly was slightly different from the norm. It wasn't anything exactly, just a slight lengthening of the 'neck', some changes in the plating and shape of the engines. However there was no one looking that closely at the ship.

The only one who did look only took note of the ship's name on the side of the neck, before leaving his observation point.

Within the Firefly's main hull, Mal stopped before the opening airlock, letting the smells of the docks drift into the cargo hold. He half closed his eyes as he breathed deeply. Yes, there were smells that weren't exactly pleasant, but they were just as much a part of _here_ as anything else.

Despite everything that had happened in the last year and a bit, he was glad to be back.

A low growl caught his attention. Looking to his left, Mal saw Ghost stood between a couple of smaller crates in the corner, looking towards the open doors.

Mal took a couple of steps towards the organoid. "Best you stay there." Ghost turned his head to regard him as he spoke, one eye ridge raising slightly. It was an oddly human reaction.

"If the folks out there see you, there'll be all kinds of panic." Mal pressed on. "That'll bring the Alliance, and the last thing we need or want is for the gorram Alliance to get its hand on you."

Ghost tilted his head to one side, and Mal got the distinct impression that he was smirking.

"**Who said they would see me?"** he growled, before he glowed for a split-second. It wasn't bright, but as the glow faded... so did Ghost.

"Wah de ma..." Mal breathed as he stared at empty space. A soft growling, almost like a chuckle, drifted from where Ghost had been stood. He looked out once more at the flow of people walking past. _'How's he going to get through that though?' _He wondered. Realising that there was nothing he could do about it now, Mal shrugged before looking back up towards the stairs that led up to the forward passageway.

"Jayne!" He yelled, before turning to look behind at the sound of footfalls. Zoe was walking out from the lounge area, her favoured shotgun – the 'Mare's leg' – in her hands.

Seeing her slide a last shell into the gun reminded Mal about his own weapon, and his hand drifted to his holster without him even realising that he had done so. In the aftermath of the Cylon Assault, Mal had been envious of the Colonial's 'laser' pistols. While in the past he had not been a fan of lasers, the Colonials weapons had proved that the era of the projectile was over.

River, picking up on his feelings and thoughts, had 'borrowed' his gun shortly before his birthday, returning it as a present. It had taken Mal several minutes to realise exactly what she had done to his old Officer's pistol.

In effect, she'd cut the gun in half, then rebuilt the middle section to allow for an interchangeable barrel element. When she'd returned it the barrel fitted was the same one as before, with a clip of compressed powder shots already loaded.

It was the other barrel that had been the real gift. Throwing a few catches would allow Mal to switch them around, replacing the traditional barrel, ammo clip and spark system with a smaller scale version of the Colonials weapons. It was not as powerful as the Colonial original, but it looked almost the same as the other barrel, so that a casual look by a third party would not reveal how advanced it was.

The clump of heavy boot heralded Jayne's arrival on deck drew him back from his reminiscing. "'Kay, here's what we'll do. Zoe, Jayne, we're going to pay a little visit to Badger. Everyone else, don't stray too far. And stay together gorram it. Let's not be losing anyone, not now."

"Really Mal, do you honestly expect the Alliance to try something here?" Inara asked as she stepped down the steps from the upper level walkway. Glancing at her, Mal could see that her face was slightly amused. Her tone had been _almost _mocking.

"I don't know Inara. They tried to get Badger though. And there ain't just the Alliance out there to be concerned about."

Miranda, following Inara down, was puzzled. But Kaylee blanched a little, thinking about the list of enemies that the crew had gathered over time.

Stepping off the ramp, Mal noticed in the dirt before him a footprint... one that no local could produce. It was formed from three, squared off toes, similar in shape to a bird's foot. Very deliberately Mal placed his foot in the print, twisting it as he turned, to ensure that the print was destroyed.

To anyone watching though, it looked like he had simply pivoted on one foot as he turned.

As he walked over, Mal smiled a little at the curious stares the Colonial shuttle was attracting... as were the two warriors who had emerged. Two warriors that Mal knew quite well.

There had been some fierce discussion – and competition – to decide which squadrons would fly from _Thunderchild _during the mission. Black & White Knight Squadrons were her normally assigned squadrons, but after the Cylon Assault everything had been mixed around. In the end, the honour went to the most famous two squadrons in the fleet, Blue and Red.

The two captains stood there, just short of the shuttle they had ridden down in, watching in amazement at the heaving mass of lower class people who walked by. Starbuck was gazing with wide eyes, looking for all the world like some lost wanderer from the outer most planet. Boomer was more controlled in his reaction, but his eyes were also wide.

"You two coming, or are you going to wander like a couple of lost sheep?" Mal asked them as he stepped closer. Secretly he hoped they would follow him. They _looked_ like they didn't belong here, too clean and military. At least with Mal and his crew, they'd be safer.

Not that he considered them defenceless, far from it. But this place was unlike anything they had like visited before, and they could find themselves in a whole heap of trouble before they realised it.

Starbuck turned to exchange a look with Boomer, before letting his customary smile crease his face. "Well, never hurts to have a local guide, right?"

Mal smiled a little before turning about. As he walked, he kept his eyes open, watching. He hadn't been kidding before. There were plenty of folk out there who would love to see him dead, the Alliance being the most oppressive and far reaching.

As he moved through the rough, container formed passageways of the docks, he couldn't help but notice that the throngs of traders, con-artists and hangers on was quite a bit thinner than the last time he'd been here. Those that were seemed to be constantly looking over their shoulders, their actions furtive. It wasn't hard to see the root of this. Alliance Federals were scattered all about in highly prominent positions, and everywhere Mal looked he saw Enforcers, local youths and yobs deputised by the Feds in order to provide the manpower needed to keep the peace.

From behind him, he could just hear Zoe and Boomer talking. They were kindred spirits, reserved warriors. All while _Serenity_'s crew had worked with nearly all the key Colonial figures, there just hadn't been the time for them to get to know each other.

Despite the fluid nature of the landscape, Mal was able to lead his small band unerringly to were Badger had set up his business, though Mal preferred to refer to it, in his head at least, as Badgers nest. The tight corridor was as he remembered, though this time there was no thug at the end. Just Badgers voice emerging from within. He sounded annoyed.

Mal felt a smile tug at his mouth when he looked into Badger's den. It was the same as before, the mad jumble of things from all across human history – Earth's history. His wide desk was cluttered with papers and that archaic apple peeler.

Badger himself was looking the worse for wear. There was an air of neglect to him now, whereas in the past he had always been dapper. Right now he appeared to be arguing with someone over the comm.

"Just find him alright? And then find out just how the kao guay he managed to get away with my goods, yea' hear?" He snapped before closing the channel. Badger leaned back in his seat, rubbing small circles at the corners of his eyes.

"I take it business has taken a turn for the worse then?" Mal spoke up.

The effect on Badger was almost comical. He spun round, eyes wide in disbelief. "Reynolds!? But... you... you're..."

"Very much alive." Mal's tone turned cold. "No thanks to you."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Atherton Wing was stood where he spent most days, before his mirror, glaring into his reflection. More precisely, at the reflection of his left cheek; the cheek which that barbarous upstart Captain Reynolds had torn apart with the broken end of his sword. Atherton could still feel the shame of defeat and humiliation that had struck him then, lying there before the clumsy, oafish fool, held at the point of his own blade!

The surgeons had repaired the damage – so they claimed – and nobody seemed to see it, but Atherton could still see the bloody tear in his fair skin. There was still an ache whenever he used the muscles there, just like his right shoulder had never quite been the same since the duel.

The Duel. Atherton snarled as he thought back to that fateful morning. His life could be defined into 'before' and 'after'. 'Before' he had had everything. Money to burn, women on his every whim, and power. People would listen to him merely because of who he was. He was respected, and feared, able to hire any whore whenever he wanted, and he had the power to do whatever he wanted.

Afterwards, things had changed. It had been his first defeat in a duel, and that old bastard Harrow had clearly spread the word of his ignominious defeat. Ever since doors were closed to him, he was shunned and ignored. Worst of all he had discovered that Inara – he clenched his fists in reaction that name! – had made good on her threat. He had tried to hire women to accompany him to the few remaining balls he was invited to, but none would. They all turned him away, mutely pointing at the Black Mark. The only places he could go to slake his lust was in the slums and 'Blackout Zones'. And the one time he did venture down there he had been attacked by muggers. Fortunately he had kept his blade on him, and the rabble had ended up dead, while he took the one woman in the group as compensation.

That had been several months ago now, and she had long been rid of. Besides, the wrench had not helped as much as he had hoped. There was only one woman who could return him to his former glory... and take care of the ache in his loins. Inara.

Atherton knew enough about the way the Companion Guild worked to know that only the one who put the Black Mark against his name could remove it. And he intended for Inara to remove that mark... once he had her back here. He knew that Reynolds ship often stopped here at Persephone for supplies and work, so it was only a matter of time.

Frustratingly, the last time she had stopped over had only been for barely an hour, not enough time for him to even contemplate a daring kidnapping.

And now she had been missing for over a year. _Serenity _had left Persephone, headed out toward one of the outer rim colony's... and then vanished. There had been no, no sign of that piece of gos se since...

The door to his chamber opened, and one of his remaining attendants stepped in and walked briskly to stand besides him.

"Well? What is it?" Atherton demanded.

"Sire, the transport called _Serenity _touched down at the Evesdown Docks twenty-three minutes ago. She was in company with an unknown type of craft, possibly a long range shuttle."

Those words sent a lightning bolt through Atherton, making him stand a little taller. "Movement?" He asked carefully.

"Captain Reynolds and two of his crew, plus two from the unknown, were seen leaving the area and heading into the heart of the cargo area. Our man reported that _Serenity_'s pilot has left the craft with a cargo hauler."

"And Inara?" Atherton asked quietly.

"She was seen leaving the ship with another young woman. She's an unknown."

Atherton turned slowly to regard the mirror, a cruel smile beginning to form on his face.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Far across the system, the limping wreck of _Dominator _slowly closed with the marshalling yard. The crew on board were looking forwards to a chance to put right the damage done to their ship by the mighty titan that had intruded into their space. However only one man board dreamed of revenge; the rest prayed they would never see that ship again.

Commander Lefcourt glared out of the bridge view port, his eyes not seeing the blackness of space, but that off-white, arrowhead prow, red darts racing away from it in all directions. He knew he had been beaten, but he longed to go back and teach those upstarts a lesson. He planned to put in a request to lead the task force against this threat as soon as he got back to the yards. It was quite likely that he would have to transfer his flag to another ship, but he didn't care about that.

All he cared about was striking back.

However, fate had other plans. Lefcourt would never get his chance to lead the taskforce he envisaged. And while the crew's prays that they would never see the Colonial ship again would be answered, it was to be in a way that they never would wish for.

"How long before we reach the yards?" Lefcourt snapped, spinning round to glare about the still damaged bridge.

"Twelve hours, twenty-three minutes sir." The duty helmsman replied, his voice drained; with the dead and wounded running at nearly seventy percent, the remaining able bodied crew were having to work double shifts to keep the ship in one piece and moving.

Turning, he once more stared outwards, a scowl on his face. His thoughts once more began to focus on...

Lefcourt froze, his eyes stopped. Had one of those stars to his upper left flickered for an instant? He stared, watching. He began to wonder if he was losing his mind...

There! Another star flickered, and then another. Then several blinked out at once, for an instant. For a few moments the stars remained steady, and then several vanished rapidly, and in the faint light from the main sun, he saw... something. Whatever it was, it was as black as space itself. It seemed to curve into darkness, cloaking itself in shadows. For an instant, Lefcourt would have sworn that the surface of this strange, unknown ship was shifting, moving...

He snapped back around, bellowing a new order. "Sound bat..."

He never finished his order.

Lefcourt turned just as the ship fired its main gun. The crew, looking up at his order, saw for an instant their commander back lit with a sickly, blood red light. Then they ceased to exist... along with the whole bridge.

Again and again the beam lashed out from the jet black Nightbringer, slicing through the alloys of the cruiser with ease. The starboard tower was split open from top to bottom, exposing hundreds of compartments to the cold vacuum. Into the deep gashes carved by the main gun, the two forward plasma projectors launched bolts of venomous green, the super-heated plasma burning through the thin alloys of the ships interior rapidly, igniting everything it touched.

The very design of the cruiser turned against it now. The outer hull had been the hard shell that not only held the vacuum of space out, but also held the ship together. Now sliced apart by the cruel laser beam, the cruiser began to disintegrate, the inner bulkheads failing and bursting apart. This process was speeded up by the Nightbringer, which targeted every chunk of the cruiser for destruction. The back light from its weapons threw the black, mottled hull in sharp relief, sending highlights racing up the black as night ridges and spines.

At last the black ships guns fell silent. It sat there, seemingly looking over its handiwork. All that was left of the _Dominator _was a cloud of twisted debris, hardening molten droplets and ashes. Only a few scraps of metal suggested just what kind of ship it had once been. Seemingly satisfied, the nightmare made real turned and left the remains behind, fading back into the blackness of space.

It had other threats to the Alliances rule to eliminate...

* * *

**DR: **Dark times are ahead, but don't worry, Atherton will get his... Until next time!


	8. Old & New Faces

**DR: **Welcome back everyone! I know you are all eager for more story, so I'm not going to keep you...

* * *

Chapter 8: Old & New Faces

Inara smiled as she slowly browsed through a selection of dresses. The years enforced stay on Zi had shown her a whole new world – several, in fact, when you factored in the Colonials – to dress and style. It had been quite an eye opener.

The fashions on Zi had tended towards bright, sometimes garish colours, bold lines and quite a bit of exposed skin. Understandable, given that the bulk of the world was a dry dusty plain. Even the greener, sub-polar regions had been warm, if not down right hot. It was also a product of ancient Japanese Pop culture, which had had a strong influence on the human colonists.

The Colonials had gone the other way, with more utilitarian clothing and relatively dull colours. Again understandable, given their recent history. But they also had flowing, loose clothing generally wore in robes on the men and long dresses for the ladies. Bare shoulders and arms had also been common, but everything below the collar bone was covered.

Now that she was back, Inara was actually slightly disappointed that things hadn't changed much, if at all, while she had been gone. The dresses on the rack before her were almost identical to those that had been here the last time she had visited. And that had been nearly fifteen months ago, a lifetime in fashion.

"Inara." Her hands froze, letting the dress she had been looking at slide back into its place. She had never expected to hear _his_ voice again.

She took a deep breath to compose herself. "Hello Atherton."

"My my, so formal." He drawled as she turned to face him. He was still as attractive to look at as he had before... physically, anyway. Inara however knew the man underneath the finely cut Indian style suit. There was nothing attractive about _him_ now.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, ignoring his words. She used her eyes to indicate the racks of woman's clothes that surrounded them. "Shopping for your latest mistress?"

"We both know that's not true, don't we Inara?" He said calmly, but there was an icy hint to his tone. "And we both know the cause..."

As he tilted his head, the light played across his cheek, and Inara could have swore she saw a faint depression, a line, running down his cheek from just below the eye nearly to his jaw. A small smile formed on her lips. "How's the shoulder Atherton? I know that that blade Mal threw had to have hurt."

A tightening of his jaw was all the reaction Atherton showed to her barbed question. After a few moments to compose himself, he spoke to her quite calmly. "My offer is still open Inara. You would be wise to take it, while you still can."

Inara felt a chill run down her spine, but refused to let it show on her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Have you forgotten so readily? You can still have a life, a true home, here on Persephone, by my side."

Inara couldn't help it; she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "No thanks Atherton. In case you didn't know, I've retired from being a Companion. You can't buy my company any more."

A slight smile appeared at the corner of Atherton's mouth. "Maybe not with money, but there are other ways..." He trailed off.

Inara was really worried now. "You wouldn't dare..."

"Dare... what, Inara?" Atherton looked at her smugly. "I'll be in touch." And with that he turned and walked away, leaving Inara with a chunk of ice in her gut.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Boomer watched impassively as Mal took a couple more steps forward, putting him self in the centre of the, room, for lack of a better word. This fellow Badger meanwhile was feeling his way into the chair behind his desk, his eyes never leaving Mal.

Having been filled on their last meeting with him by Zoe, Boomer found himself unmoved by the fences panicked look.

"Reynolds... how the... I mean, this a surprise! Er... where've you been?"

"Had a little unexpected side trip." Was Mal's simple, and short, answer. Boomer watched as Badger's eyes flickered to both himself and Starbuck, the question in his eyes clear.

"Of more concern to me..." Mal continued, drawing Badgers attention back to himself. "..Is the Alliance Cruiser that was waiting for us when we got back. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Badger nervously swallowed. "Malcolm... I didn't... I would never..."

"Set us up?" Mal cut him off harshly, taking another step forwards. Badger began to cower in his seat. Boomer frowned, but stayed silent. This was Mal's world, and he knew the place. Boomer just hoped he knew what he was doing.

"Look Malcolm... I was trapped! They nearly got me before you made that broadcast." Boomer noticed Zoe blanch at bit at mention of that. While he hadn't been told the full story, Boomer had picked enough to know that that period was full of dark days for the crew of _Serenity_.

"The Alliance wanted your head Reynolds, but they had trouble tracking you. So they needed you to go somewhere _they _had picked out. I was forced to direct you there! I had no choice!"

"Really? I find that hard to believe..." Mal commented.

"I'm serious Reynolds! They left a man behind after the second visit, to ensure that I sent you off. If I hadn't, I be dead! I tried to warn ya..."

"That's the only reason that you're still breathing, dong ma?" Badger seemed to wilt at Mal's words.

Out of the corner of his eye, Boomer caught Starbuck shifting uncomfortably, matching how he felt within. This was an altogether darker Mal than the one they knew.

For a long, uncomfortable moment nobody spoke. Mal stood there, staring down at Badger, who looked fearfully back. The air was rife with tension as the silence dragged on. Boomer found himself tensing up, his hand itching towards his laser, just in case...

At last Mal sighed, and a lot of the tension faded. His pose relaxed a little as he addressed Badger again. "Okay, now that that's been dealt with, mind telling what is up with things outside?"

Not everyone however was pleased that Mal had changed tracks.

"Er, Mal? What are you doing? Ain't we going to fill this gorram dirt bag full of holes for turning us in?" Jayne spoke up, half snarling.

Mal didn't bother answering. He just looked sharply at the big merc. Jayne visibly backed down.

Badger, in the meantime, clearly had realised that Mal wasn't going to kill him, and relaxed a bit. "Thins have gotten even worse while you were gone Mal." He spoke in a world-weary voice once Mal faced him once more. "The Government has been cracking down even harder on us, even my legit businesses. Trade between the planets is almost totally controlled by them now, and there are even more inspections than ever. You can barely move about these days without having to explain yourself. Only the rich can move freely, while those on the bottom just get squashed."

As Badger went on about how things had gone from bad to worse, Boomer exchanged another look with Starbuck. Things were worse than they had thought. From the expressions on Zoe and Mal's faces, even they were startled at how bad had gotten since they'd been here, though Mal didn't look surprised at the actual actions of the regime.

"So...I take it there's no work for us?" Mal asked when Badger stopped for a moment. The fence frowned.

"Not really, though I have heard that Warwick Harrow is looking to move some cargo off world again. Still won't deal with me..."

"Wonder why." Mal cut in, a ghost of a smile on his face. Badger blanched, but didn't rise to the bait as Jayne chuckled.

"...but he did comment if you were available, then he'd be willing to deal with you." Badger actually smirked. "I guess he realised your just like him, with one heck of a stick up your pee-goo."

'_That required no translation.' _Boomer thought to himself.

Mal however seemed to ignore the insult. "I assume you know how to set up a meet?"

Badger nodded. "His messenger left a contact number to let him know if you're around or not. Guess he'll take it from there." He passed a little slip of paper across to Mal, who pocketed the note with ease born of practice.

"Well then. I guess our business is done." Mal turned and began to work out. Just before he stepped out however, he paused, and looked back over his shoulder at Badger, smirking.

"I told you the wheel never stops turning Badger." He commented. Badger's reply was simply a scowl.

X-X-X-X-X-X

As they returned to _Serenity_, Miranda kept on glancing at Inara, wondering what was up. It was clear to her that, despite the facade that she was putting up, there was something deeply worrying the older woman. Something had happened in the last shop to put a big damper on her mood. She had tried to draw her out, but so far Inara hadn't even hinted at what was bothering her.

To tell the truth, Miranda herself was a little disturbed herself. The buildings here were built practically on top of one another, and they towered high into the air, giving the narrow streets a closed in feeling. On top of that, those same streets were densely packed with people, and personal space was practically non-existent. Several times she had nearly been lost in the crowd: It was only because Inara came back for her that they were able to stay together. For Miranda, having grown up on Zi, with its wide open spaces and broad streets, it was like being suffocated.

It wasn't that thought which was disturbing her though. Watching the locals, she'd seen small groups of people being ordered about by overweight, pompous men and self obsessed, vain women. Men in black uniforms had made their way through the masses, curses flying whenever someone was not quick enough to step aside. On the edges, in the nooks and tiny alleys, there had been bedraggled people cowering, clearly the homeless. Inara had seen them too, and an expression of sorrow had crossed her face each time.

There had also been those in those alleys that Miranda just knew were dangerous, and she had kept as much distance between them and herself as she could. The hungry look in their eyes as they watched people walk by could not be hidden. It only strengthened when they watched Inara, though it seems her past as a Companion – and she still dressed for the part, even if she had quit – kept them at bay.

The most scary group however had been a small knot of soldiers, dressed in dark purple uniforms and body armour, fully armed and glaring at everyone suspiciously.

Miranda got the distinct feeling that she was seeing just the tip of the iceberg that was the dark underbelly of this system's supposedly utopian society.

Returning to the docks, Miranda was able to breathe a little easier as the dense pack of humanity eased up. Approaching the ships, Miranda was surprised to see a finely dressed man speaking to Mal on the boarding ramp. Mal listened for a bit, before nodding slowly and saying a few words. The other man nodded, before handing across a pair of modest sized cards. He then turned and walked away, melting back into the thin crowds.

"Anything of interest Mal?" Inara asked once they were close enough. Mal turned to look at them, a small smile forming on his face as he looked at her.

"Depends. You remember Warwick Harrow?"

Inara stiffened slightly before replying. "Of course."

Mal nodded slowly. Clearly he'd also caught her initial reaction. "Well, he wants to meet. Another shindig tonight, and he's sent us invites."

"Really?" In response to Inara's surprised tone, Mal produced the cards he'd been given and handed them to Inara. As she looked at them, Miranda leaned a bit closer to see for herself.

The stout cards were written on in gold filigree, and there was a decorative boarder done in the same. One was addressed to Mal, the other blank. Of note however was the invites were for the named person 'plus one'.

"Who's going Mal?" Inara asked carefully.

Mal put on a show of thinking about it. "Well, me certainly... Kaylee can't this time, she's minding Kyle for Zoe. Besides, I doubt she'd go without Simon... Zoe and Wash are watching those two hotshots' backs...hmmm..." He smirked at Inara. "Care to grace my arm Inara?"

Inara smiled warmly. "Will you wash it first?" Mal just smiled in reply, clearly sharing with her some private joke.

Miranda gave them a moment, but then couldn't contain herself anymore. "What about the other one?" he asked, trying to hide her excitement.

Mal faced her, a playful light in his eye. "Well, I suppose Jayne and River could use it... though I can't see either of them fitting in..."

"You don't fit into that world either Mal." Inara reminded him gently. "But I agree with you. River is better, but she still needs some time. And as for Jayne..." Inara concluded her sentence with an eye-roll.

"My thoughts exactly. And apart from them... oh! I'm sorry, did you want to go?" Mal directed the last to Miranda, who just glared at him in reply.

"She'll still need an escort Mal." Inara threw in, drawn into the light teasing of the young woman. From the look in her eyes, Miranda could see that Inara had already picked out the right person, and that realisation swept away any anger she had.

X-X-X-X-X-X

A short time later, a second Colonial shuttle settled down besides _Serenity_, this time on her other side. It was there only briefly, just long enough for a young man to step clear, before it lifted off and headed back into the sky.

Mal met the raven haired youth at _Serenity_'s airlock. "Nice of you to drop in Vega." He smirked.

Vega flushed a little. "Well, Miranda said it was important."

Mal chuckled. "Oh it is. Very important." They both walked under the gantries and stepped into the lower living area. "She did say what was so important, right?"

"No, actually." Vega frowned. "What's going on captain?"

Mal chuckled again at the rising note of suspicion in the young mans voice. "Oh, nothing. Just that young Mir' needs an escort for a ball."

Vega froze at the base of the steps that led up around the back of the medical bay, and came out on the rear corridor of _Serenity_'s upper deck. His face was a mask of astonishment. He didn't notice Mal continue to climb up the steps.

"A... ball?" He repeated quietly.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Miranda herself sat before the small dresser in Inara's shuttle, a bundle of nerves coiling in her gut. Was this going too far, too fast? Things as they were between herself and Vega were nice and comfortable, but she had found the separation over the last few days rather disturbing. Used to seeing him every day, his sudden absence ached within her. She was smart enough to know that she had leapt onto this ball as a way of seeing him again, but was it too much?

Across the main cabin, Inara was getting ready herself, covertly watching the nervous young woman as she did. She could sympathise with her; Inara recalled all too clearly those early days at the training house, expecting Mal to step around the corner at any moment with some jab at a Companion's lifestyle on his lips.

She smiled at the nervous way Miranda was playing with her hands, fiddling with the elbow length gloves she was wearing. They were part of the ensemble that was a new dress she had bought while they had been out earlier, just in case of an occasion like this. In truth Miranda had not been going to buy it, but when Inara learned that she had never owned a dress in her life, she had put her foot down and made her buy it.

The dress itself was a bit outside the norm for upper class Persephone, which tended to gravitate towards fashions from sixteenth to eighteenth century Earth-That-Was periods. However, Inara _was_ impressed with the craftsmanship. Looking at it, one would think it was composed of multiple items layered on top of each other, but in reality it was just two, plus a belt.

The first was a double buttoned deep maroon dress shirt, made from a light, airy material and with a high neck. Over this went the dress itself, a complex layering of material. The lower section had a stepped hem, with three layers of separate cloth. The inner layers hem was angled in the opposite direction to the other two. The middle layer was woven of the coarsest, heaviest material, to give some weight to the skirt and prevent it flying up. The other two layers were fine, light and silky to the touch. All three were joined at the waist. From there, more of the outer layer ran up Miranda's sides to attach to the upper half of the dress under her arms. The 'jacket' section was sleeveless, with a deep russet band that ran along the edges, running over her shoulders to join at the back of her waist, and down her front to the clasp located at the bottom of her ribcage, before flaring out again down around her hips before meeting again at the back of her knees. Some small ruffles, a slightly darker shade of red than the regal red of the body of the dress, just covered her shoulders, while the sleeves of the dress shirt were brought back up her arms from the elbow to be attached to the underside of them. Finally, a broad black belt band ran around her waist, clasped at the front with a large bronze decorative cover.

This complex arrangement of cloth allowed for Miranda to wear the dress with or without the shirt, though it would be very daring if she did. The top half only came together with that single clasp. If she didn't wear the shirt her whole spine would be bare, thanks to that low cut back, while round the front a large V cleft of chest, plus a modest diamond of her stomach, would be exposed. Such an amount of exposed skin would fit in fine back on Zi, but here it would scandalous. On Persephone, at least.

Inara stepped over behind her, Miranda's action stopping as she looked up at her through the mirror. Her elbow length hair was now sculptured on top of her head, though a couple of curls had artfully 'escaped' to frame her face.

"You look stunning dear. I'm sure Vega will approve."

Miranda flushed bright red at the praise. She had never really experimented with the wide range of beauty products before; she had never seen a need to.

Inara however knew all about how to use such items. "Just one or two little touches more, and you'll be perfect."

* * *

**DR: **I wounder how many of the readers will notice the little nods I'm putting in...

**Hermione:** If they're observent, they will.

**Kosh: **The truth points to itself.

**Harry: **(looks at kosh strangely)...anyone understand what that means? (Turns to look at Hermione under his arm) Love?

**Hermione: **(confused look)went right by me...

**DR: **You'll have to excuse Kosh. He's never given a straight answer to anybody. Not even me, the owner of this place! (turns back to readers) Anyway... reviews are always welcome. The more I get, the more likely it is I'll upload the next chapter in a fortnights time!


	9. Reaping Reavers

**DR: **Well, not as many reviews as I had hoped, but I'll post this anyway.

**Kaylee: **Awwhh, you're sweet.

**Dr Keller: **That you are.

**Bit: **Whoa... Kaylee in stereo.

**DR: **Enough Bit. Little foreword: this chapter departs from _Serenity _to go visit a certain beautiful captain, whose about to face one of the nightmares of the Blue Sun system...

* * *

Chapter 9: Reaping Reavers

In the depths of the huge system, far from any of the planets or trade lanes, a sleek, lean ship glided forwards with grace and latent power. The lean destroyer was steadily circling around the star system, mapping out all the planets... in particular, those with signs of human life.

Within her armoured hull, the Colonial crew went about their duties quietly and without fuss. Most of them were finding this long mapping mission tedious, even dull. Still, it was giving the new crewmen and women time to adjust to ship board life.

On the bridge, Captain Athena was doing something she had never done before: she was dozing in her chair. With everything running to routine, there was little for her to do.

However, just like her crew, she was ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

And fate rarely leaves people alone for long.

The Communications Officer frowned, pressing the headphone to his ear a little. The Gamma frequencies had long ago been abandoned by the Colonials, but here they were still the primary means of transmitting data over short and medium ranges. At longer ranges however, signal lag & degradation made hearing messages difficult, at best.

He twiddled the dial a little, trying to find the correct frequency that matched the faint, static laced words he thought he'd heard. Just as he was about to give up, the words came through much clearer.

After listening for a moment, he realised that _this _was big.

"Captain?" He called out, turning his chair to look up at her. "We're receiving a distress call."

Athena, awoken instantly by the officers' call, sat up straight in her chair. "Locate the source, and pass the coordinates to the helm." She then took a deep breath. "Let's hear it."

The bridge speakers began to crackle: not because the speakers were faulty, but because the signal was broken. Never the less, the words – and the emotion underneath – came through loud and clear.

"_... repeat, tiss is the Transport ship _Rejackenar_, we arr being chased by Reaver ships! We'rrr at full burn, butts not enough! Theyll be on top of us in minutes! Any Alliance ships in range, please assist! We'rrr carrying nearly theee hundread people, many of them children! Repeat, we ave Reaver ships hard on our tail!"_

"Got them sir." The sensor officer called out. "One ship, light cruiser size, eighty-two degrees off the starboard bow. There are at least nine ships in close pursuit."

"Any other ships close by?" Athena had to ask.

"Negative Captain. Only a couple of small ships, and they're turning _away_ from the chase."

Athena sighed, then hardened her expression. "Helm, plot an intercept course, best speed."

To an outside observer, the _Rosetta _swung about to point almost directly to starboard, and then seemed to leap forwards as her engines blazed with power.

For the next couple of minutes, the crew sat silently, the boredom of earlier gone, replaced with nervous tension. On the bridge, the _Rejackenar_'scontinued cries of help echoed about, getting clearer agonisingly slowly.

The _Rejackenar _was an inelegant vessel, with a bulbous midsection, a blocky rear section containing the drives and crew quarters, and a small blister above the bow containing the bridge. Modest sized engines were at the four corners of the main hull, clearly intended for landing on a planets surface. In contrast, the Reaver ships running the bigger ship down were misshapen, scarred hulks, their outer hulls torn and twisted, daubed with corrupted Kangi characters. Several of the Reaver ships sported grisly trophies, charred human remains literally tied to the craft. Further corrupting the ships outlines were jagged pieces of metal welded onto the surface, jutting out like spines and blades randomly. The lead ships had already armed their grapples, both cable and magnetic, in anticipation of the prey ship coming into range.

Within the _Rejackenar_ families clung together in fear and panic, barricaded within their cabins. Others had armed themselves with whatever they could find, and waited for the assault. Those in the crew who were not required to fly the ship had ransacked the small armoury, and along with those passengers who had their own weapons gathered, ready to defend the ship. None of them however had any hope of surviving the attack.

On the bridge, the ships captain paced about, one hand resting on the holstered pistol at his waist. Tall, blonde and with a craggy face, he was clearly a descendant from Scandinavian people. Right now that heritage was strong, as the grim face he wore made those crags deeper.

"How long have we got?" He asked the bridge at large.

"Less than two minutes before they overhaul us." Was the resigned reply. The bridge crew had all but given up hope.

"Contact ahead sir!" The pilot called out. "It's... Holy Jesus... its closing fast!"

Before any of the other crew could respond, a strong female voice came over the comms.

"_Attention Reaver ships. Break off your attack now, or we will _make_ you break off."_

Truthfully, Athena didn't expect the Reavers to take any notice to her broadcast. Mal and his crew had filled them in about the Reavers at length. However, on some level they were still human, and Athena just couldn't go in weapons blazing without giving them at least a chance to see reason.

The only Reaver response came a few seconds later, with the lead ship firing its harpoon at the _Rejackenar_. The hardened spear of metal stabbed through space, trailing a long, heavy chain behind it. It glanced off the large ships stern, before jerking to a halt, at the end of its tether.

"Well, there's our answer." Athena muttered to herself, before speaking up. "Gunners, fire at will. Take them down."

Everyone who had a view craned their necks as they watched the sleek Colonial ship race past, quite a few jumping when ruby red darts lashed out from across the ship. Behind them, the mass of Reaver ships crumpled and erupted into explosions at the gentle caress of those bolts.

It was perhaps one of the shortest battles in Colonial history. The cannibalised and thrown together Reaver craft were simply incapable of withstanding the assault of the Colonial destroyer. Several tried to engage the new threat, but their weapons didn't even scratch the hull. Hardened steel harpoons, powerful enough to spear right through the hull of an Alliance cruiser, just bounced off the Colonial alloy hull, bent and buckled. A swarm of small fighter type craft swept in on one flank... and were just as quickly wiped out as the _Rossetta_'s side batteries cut loose.

Athena watched in satisfaction as the largest ship in the Reaver force, once a mid-bulk freighter, was ripped in two with her ships forward beam lasers. The agile destroyer roared through the expanding debris field before coming about in a graceful arc, ready to mop anything that escaped the first attack.

Sadly, the one ship that did survive had not deterred from the original target.

"Frak!" Athena cursed when she saw the horrifically mutilated mid-range transport practically sitting on the _Rejackenar_'s hull. In the rapidly shrinking space between the two, cables and chains could been seen, linked the two craft together with a web of steel. Already the cutting torches around the hatch were glowing, eager to saw into the larger ship.

She looked about her bridge, searching for an idea as to help. And then her eyes landed on the man stood near the entry hatch...

"Lieutenant, assemble your men in the landing bay. You're heading over there." She pointed at the _Rejackenar_ through the view port.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Ensign Blake crouch down behind an overturned table, the shotgun he held shakily pointed at the massive hatch that separated the _Rejackenar_'s main section from the stern. The Reavers had burned through into an empty crew compartment, and ever since the crew had been trying to hold them back. But the Reavers threw themselves at them without any regard for safety, and the crew had only a half dozen guns between them. Some of the passengers had added a couple more, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. They had been forced to leave three crewmen behind, several more wounded.

Now only a handful held this position, the last before the helpless passengers. The incessant banging on the hatch as the Reavers broke it down only tore at already shot nerves.

Blake looked over his shoulder, wondering where the XO had gone to. '_The gorram coward must have jumped in a lifeboat!' _He thought. Another look at the now buckling hatch, and suddenly the idea of climbing into one of the coffin sized pods seemed like a good idea...

The thumping of heavy boots behind him drew his attention, and he looked back to see the XO step back around the corner... and for several well armed and armoured soldiers to trot round right on his heals.

Each trooper wore a tough looking tan jumpsuit, over which they had layered thin panels that almost totally encased them. Although the panels were painted a darker brown, the way the light reflected off them suggested they were metal. The helmets these men wore were open faced, with a lowered orange tinted visor before their eyes. Each one carried a large pistol in a hip holster, a set of grenade like objects, and a large black rifle. As more and more troops moved in, the lead set began to take up the empty slots in the hasty defences. More than happy to let professionals handle the Reavers, Blake stepped aside into a cross corridor, letting one of the soldiers drop down to one knee in his place. As the trooper raised the rifle to the ready, Blake got a good look at it, and he realised that it was much more advanced than anything he'd seen before.

The soldiers formed a pair of short double lines, the lead four of each kneeling behind the overturned tables on each side of the passageway, the rear four standing behind them. Into the gap left by the lines stood two more men. One was dressed like the others, but instead of a rifle like theirs he held a longer, narrow weapon, with an armoured tube that ran from the weapon to a bulky backpack he wore. A tiny blue flame burned at the muzzle...

Blake's eyes widened. _'They brought a flame-thrower?!'_

The other man was armoured just the same as the others, but had a definite air of command. Instead of the rifle he held a smaller weapon in one hand, more along the size of a carbine. In the other he held a sabre. Gold sparkled from his collar.

As the hatch finally yielded, the officer barked out his command.

"First rank... FIRE!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

The _Rosetta _idled alongside the much larger _Rejackenar_, awaiting a report from the Marines that had been sent across. The shuttle remained where it had docked, an expandable cofferdam reaching out from the much larger craft and latching on around the marines craft.

The Colonial Marines were an evolution of the old Colonial Security force. Recognising a need for a capable, dedicated ground force, the marines were a fusion of Colonial technology with Earth based history, training and experience. With literally hundreds of ground wars under their collective belts, the Earth origin humans had a lot to offer the well equipped, but poorly experienced Colonials.

The marines were intended for the most brutal fighting; boarding actions, initial combat landings and surgical strikes. They were to hit hard and fast, the heaviest weaponry they would field being a variant of the new Blade Raptors. Miranda Schubaltz had, reluctantly, agreed for her new zoid to be sampled and cloned, to be used only by the new marine force. A more regular force, pieced together from the nations of Zi, would handle more conventional battles.

Right now though there were only four platoons of marines, one on both the _Rosetta _and _Phoenix_, with the last two on _Thunderchild_. Of those four, only the two on the battlecruiser had their full range of weapons and personal, including the zoids. The other two were currently operating light, with only two dozen men and a third of their heavy weapons. Right now the platoon assigned to _Rosetta _was fighting off the Reavers on the _Rejackenar_, their first 'Baptism of Fire'.

At last a signal came through. _"Captain Athena. We have cleared and secured the _Rejackenar_'s rear quarter. There are high levels of radiation coming from within the Reaver ship however, so I'm reluctant to order my men in there without suitable equipment."_

Athena nodded. They had detected the dangerously high levels of radiation the Reaver ships emitted earlier. How the Reavers survived that...

"Did you find those crewmen that had to be left behind?" She asked.

There was a long pause before the Lieutenant answered. _"Yes sir... what was left of them, anyway. Frankly Captain, the inside of the Reaver ship smells like an abattoir... one that hasn't been washed down in years."_

There were a number of nervous swallows and grimaces at that statement. After taking a moment to placate her stomach, Athena gave her orders.

"See to detaching that ship Lieutenant. We'll blast that... abomination, into scrap once it's clear of the _Rejackenar_."

"_Understood." _There was click as the channel closed.

Athena leaned back in her seat, a small smile on her lips. Once the tale of this rescue got out, and she was sure the crew would start telling anybody they met, then it would give the Colonials a positive image in the minds of the people. If they could win the people over, then the corrupt government that oppressed them would fall that much easier. 'Hearts and Minds' Sire Masters had called it.

As she allowed the tension to flow out of her, Athena wondered what was happening both across the system and back home...

**

* * *

**

DR:

No, that's not a bit of foreshadowing there. Next time we return to Persephone, as the Ball gets underway... and the other half of Atherton's dasterly plan in put into motion... 


	10. Games & Threats

**DR: **Hey everyone, welcome back. Let's get down to business, shall we?

* * *

Chapter 10: Games & Threats

Sir Warwick Harrow stood in one of the corners of the ballroom, talking quietly with Sir Albert Norrington. Both were men from before the Alliance, when due to the problems with the terraforming processes society had regressed a little. As powerful men, they had been awarded their titles, for being two of the few who had held civilisation together. Nowadays, while they still held considerable power in their respective fields, the titles themselves were little more than extras.

While Harrow oversaw vast amounts of farmers, Norrington was lord of Persephone's shipbuilding yards. While overshadowed by the Government run yards, Norrington's yards were still respected for their small craft. He'd kept his yard going, when all other independent yards were failing and being taken over by the government, by branching out into building sea going craft. The oceans and seas of the worlds in the Alliance were still mostly ignored, but the bounty of such bodies of water could not be underestimated. It was this small market that had kept him afloat.

While both their futures and fortunes were secured under the Alliance, both old friends were troubled by recent events, going back over the last couple of years. Harrow had been uneasy even before the 'Miranda Broadcast', and everything since had just added to his gut feeling that something was fundamentally _wrong_.

And so they had met here, to discuss the issue. It was a bit of a risk, but they were not likely to be overheard with all the rest of the background chatter and music. Besides, it wouldn't look suspicious for them to be talking here, but if either visited the home of the other, _that _would.

They had just finished discussing the worrying recent change in education, where children would no longer be taught about Earth-That-Was in schools. The information was not restricted, _yet_, but the kids would not be told about it. Earth-That-Was was to be sidelined, mentioned only in passing as the place of humanity's origin, nothing more. For both Harrow and Norrington, whose families could both be traced back across several generations on Earth, this was deeply worrying.

As they paused, Harrow heard the words he'd been listening out for all evening, called out by the doorman. "Captain Malcolm Reynolds and Inara Serra."

Harrow turned to look towards the entranceway, a tiny smile on his lips as he looked at the two. Mal looked somewhat more comfortable than he had the last time he'd been here, while Miss Serra fitted in perfectly. He also noted with interest that the two also appeared to be _together_, rather than the strained attraction of before, as he watched them move only a couple of steps away from the entrance. He wondered who they had passed the second invite he had sent them to.

"Miss...Miranda Schubaltz and escort."

While Inara's name had drawn some attention, _that _name drew quite a bit. The general hum of conversation died for a moment, long enough for everyone to wonder who would dare announce themselves with the same name as... _that planet_.

What they saw was a young woman, barely twenty, wearing an elaborate dress of layered reds and white, blond hair neatly sat on her head, with a wide eyed look of awe on her face. The young man besides her drew Harrow's eyes however. His open, innocent face jumped out from between the raven locks on his head and the black suit he wore. Harrow decided to keep an eye on him, recalling what happened with Malcolm the last time he came to this event.

X-X-X-X-X-X

'_I wonder if this is how Bit felt...'_ Vega mused to himself as he looked at Miranda again. He kept on having to reassure himself that it really was her. In all the time he had known her, she'd never dressed up once. Utility and Practical summed up her wardrobe.

This was quite a departure from that. But it _did_ show that Miranda had grown into a very beautiful woman, at least in Vega's eyes. When he had finally mange to regain control of his voice and compliment her after seeing her walk down from Inara's shuttle, Miranda's blush had been visible underneath her makeup.

After a couple of brief words from Mal and Inara – mainly Inara, really – the two couples had split up to mingle. For the next few minutes, Vega could only look about in amazement at the other patrons, nearly all dressed even more elaborately. Vega began to get the feeling he was underdressed...

"Vega?"

Miranda's word finally reached his mind and he faced her. "Huh?"

Miranda just smiled sadly. "I was asking if you'd seen the drinks bar yet."

"Oh! I think I saw something a moment ago... I'll be right back." Vega reluctantly slipped his arm out from hers before moving back off, slipping between some other people.

Miranda remained where she stood, smiling happily. Vega's reaction to her dress had been worth all the worry and hassle, never mind the cost. As part of the Blitz, and with the funds from her own zoid upgrades, Miranda had plenty of money. True, at the moment it was hard to use here, but with Inara's help...

"Excuse me?"

Miranda, her train of thought interrupted, turned to regard the woman who had spoken. A few inches taller than her, the woman was also slightly older, with a thin, fine boned face. Her dress was done in several brown shades, with much lace and ruffles. Over her shoulders Miranda could see three other girls, while a small group of men were off to one side, talking amongst themselves.

"That is a _lovely_ dress you have. I was wondering... how much would you be willing to trade your girl for?"

Miranda just stared wide eyed.

"If you want, I'm sure I can exchange my current girl for yours." The woman went on, taking Miranda's shock for a willingness to listen. "She was good, but lately she's lost that creativity. Why, she even tried to make me a dress that I could have bought in a store!" The other girls gasped in sympathy for a moment.

"Oh, how rude of me! I'm Banni Miller." She extended her hand, palm angled downwards.

Miranda looked at the hand offered, then back into Banni's eyes. "I'm sorry, but I don't fraternise with slave owners. Owning people is wrong, and I don't stand for it!"

Banni gasp, and took a half step back. "How rude!" She gasped. Then a dark look crossed her face as she stepped closer. "You should watch that mouth of yours. If you keep talking like that, you'll be out on the streets, begging someone to take you in as an indentured servant."

Miranda however just cocked her head and met Danni's gaze, clearly unsettling the older girl. "That the new way to say 'slave' now?" She had noticed how the four girls had stiffened slightly at the word earlier. "But that won't happen to me anyway."

Danni's reply was cold. "Oh, is Daddy going to keep you safe?"

Miranda smirked. "I can keep myself safe, thank you. AND I could kick you all the way around this planet. Assuming my boyfriend doesn't get to you first."

"Everything all right Miranda?" Vega asked as he stepped up besides her. He'd seen the confrontation between the two as he'd walked back. Concern for her was clear in his voice.

"Just fine Vega." Miranda replied as she took her drink from him. "Just a difference of opinion." The last word was almost a purr since Vega slid his arm around her waist as she said it.

Banni backed off slightly, confused and bewildered. She had not been expecting the appearance of any kind of male support on this rude little girl's side, certainly not one so handsome. Certainly the way they spoke to one another and stood shouted that they were very close indeed. Noting that the two of them were no longer paying her any attention, she moved away, the other girls following.

X-X-X-X-X-X

The clicking of the small metal plates was the only sound around the table. Four of the five men sitting there who had been dealt the cards picked them up straight away. The fifth waited a few seconds before doing the same, taking his time as he did. It was all calculated to unease his opponents. Not that it took much now: the tall piles of various coins sat on the table before him, mostly gained from the stocks of the other players, were also effective in that regard.

While inside he frowned as he worked out the various faces and values, on the outside Starbuck was grinning around his fumerlo, laid back in his chair as he slowly sorted the metal cards in his hand.

"Al'right cowboy, your turn to start." The one man, lean faced, almost snarled.

"Easy there, let's keep the game friendly. And in the spirit of such, I wager… sixty platinum." Was Starbucks wounded reply as he slid one of the smaller stacks into the centre of the round table.

As the other players added their bets, Starbuck once again thanked the Lords of Kobol that he'd had the foresight to find out about the various card games played by the people in this system. A couple were a little odd, but this Poker was very much like Pyramid.

As he traded in two of his cards, Starbuck felt a thrill run through him. Things had been very quiet for some time now, with the exception of the initial contact with the Alliance ship. And while the long breather after the Cylon Assault had been just what the battered and tired Colonials had needed, Starbuck had found that he had begun to fidget over the last couple of months. A mostly friendly game with new people was just what he needed.

Seeing that his new hand was all but unbeatable, and that none of the other players had anything good, Starbuck leaned back some more, feeling very confident.

As he sat back and watched the other agonise over their cards and stacks, a murmur of conversation came over from a table behind him.

"...guy's understand the plan?"

"Understand it, yes. Like it? No. We can't take anything?"

"Nothing that would be missed." The first voice answered. "You all know we can't let ourselves be seen."

"It just seems wrong, you know?" A third voice spoke up. "Sneaking onto a rust bucket of a Firefly just to place a big, gorram heavy crate on board. What's in that thing anyway?"

"You don't need, or want, to know." The first man answered. "You're all being paid enough to keep your traps shut, dong ma?"

"What if some of the crew discover us?" The second asked.

"Then we take them down."

"What if it's one of the women? That one was nice..." A new voice asked, dark and cruel sounding.

"What, the skinny, dark haired girl? Too bony mate, plus she looked not all there..." That was the third man.

"Na, I was thinking of the one in the coveralls and the floral top. Nice build, perfect for a little fun..." There was a suggestive tone in his voice, and Starbuck didn't need to see his face to know he was grinning.

But it was not the man's manner that put a chill through Starbuck's blood. He knew now that these men could only be talking about _Serenity_; the descriptions of River and Kaylee were crude, but accurate.

"Come on blondie, are you in or what?" So focused had he been on the discussion behind him, Starbuck had forgotten about the card game.

"Yes... yes I'm in." Sitting forwards again, Starbuck looked once more at his cards, taking in the expressions of the others, and then slid another pile of coins into the middle, this time made up of small flattened cubes made of gold. "Twenty Cubits, worth five hundred Platinum."

Such a bold, and daring, stake clearly shocked four of the other players. One by one, they threw their cards in and bowed out. The last player however glared at Starbuck, before looking down at his cards.

"Seven hundred." He said slowly, pushing all his remaining coins into the middle.

"Call." Starbuck countered almost immediately, pushing enough to cover the bet in. He then flipped his cards over, even as the other man did the same.

There was a long pause as both sets were compared.

The other man sagged a little in his chair as he realised that he had lost, but then his head snapped up, an angry look on his face.

"You win... again."

"Well... guess I'm just lucky." Starbuck grinned as he reached out to rake in his winnings.

"Too lucky..." The other man muttered before his own hand shot out, snapping shut around Starbucks wrist.

"Too lucky to be real..."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Starbuck asked, but the only answered was a combination of yanking up his sleeves and shaking of his arms. "I don't cheat mister!" Starbuck told him.

"All of them say that..." He snarled through gritted teeth, the lack of any emerging evidence making him even angrier.

With a sharp twist of his arm, Starbuck pulled free, using his other arm to drag his winnings closer to his edge of the table.

"Don't you go thinking that you'll walk away from this cheater..." The man who'd grabbed him said, reaching down to his holster.

"Everything alright Starbuck?" Boomer's voice from over Starbuck's shoulder was more than welcome, plus the fact that he already had his laser out. The other man stilled, figuring that he'd be dead before he could draw. Starbuck finished collecting his winnings.

"Fine Boomer. Just a little disagreement." As he turned to face his long time friend, Starbuck looked over all the tables behind him. None had more than two people at them. Raising his eyes, he spotted a group of five exiting the bar...

"Come on." He spoke aside to Boomer as he gave chase. Boomer covered the other game players for a bit more as he backed up, before turning and following.

The darkness outside half blinded Starbuck as he stepped out, and he lost precious seconds as his eyes adjusted. Casting about, he finally saw five figures settling down onto a small wheeled vehicle and trailer combo, three on the quad bike, and two either side of a large box that sat in the middle. Starbuck started towards them, but the driver gunned the engine and they were off.

Boomer caught up with his friend to find him swearing. "Care to explain buddy?"

"_Serenity_'s in danger Boom-boom."

Boomer frowned. "Why don't you call them up and warn them then?"

Starbuck cursed again, himself this time, before going for his communicator.

X-X-X-X-X-X

River sat in _Serenity_'s cockpit, leaning back in her seat with her feet tucked up underneath her. Head tilted back, she gazed up into the night sky. The Evesdown Docks had all but shut down for the night, and with it its people.

Within the ship the others were mostly resting. Jayne had gone out alone, likely to some bar. Zoe and Wash were together with their son in their bunk, while Kaylee was tinkering with the engine. Simon was supposed to be watching the twins, but he'd fallen asleep. Luckily, they had too.

River smiled slowly. She would be forever grateful to both Kane and Mnementh for giving her back her mind and self control. Together, they had repaired the damage to her brain, restoring her control over her emotions, while at the same time taught her how to control and direct her 'gift', her psychic abilities. Commander Adama had also helped her, teaching her many of the teachings from a study he'd once been part of. She had been amazed – something that rarely happened – when he had demonstrated that he too had such abilities. For him, it was telekinetic, the power to move objects with his mind. It had taken a lot out of him – he was out of practice – but it had opened her eyes.

Now, she only picked up a faint buzz, a muted muttering from those around her. It varied in intensity with each person. Inara was almost totally silent, while Jayne was loud and boisterous. Her brother was close to Inara, as was Zoe. Mal and Kaylee were closer to Jayne, though they were much more pleasant to be around.

However, to hold stray thoughts in place she needed to keep her shields up consciously, and it was tiring. Mnementh had explained that with time it would become both instinctual and effortless, till it would happen without her even thinking about it. But he had stressed that during the first little while, which varied from person to person, that she had to rest her mind often to recover.

Now after nearly a year, she could hold her shields up for a whole day, but at night they had to come down. And so she started coming up here after Wash had turned in. Up here, in the very bows of the ship, she was as far away from the others as she could be. The engine room would have been better, but that was Kaylee's retreat, her space, and River would never think about trying to take that away from her.

She was starting to slip into a light doze, wondering how Mal, Inara, Miranda and Vega were getting on, when the console before her chimed for her attention. Releasing a small sigh of irritation, River answered the call.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, is that River?" _Even over the comm., River could tell that Starbuck was worried. It was in his voice.

"Yes, the others are asleep or still out."

"_Feldercarb! Okay... River, there's some men heading for your ship. I overheard them discussing their mission. I think they're going to plant a bomb on _Serenity._"_

River's demeanour stilled, and her eyes narrowed. "I'll be waiting for them."

* * *

**O'Neill: **I foresee a major can of 'whoopass' being opened.

**Sheppard: **Can't wait to see that.

**DR: **Well you'll have too... until next chapter, that is! See you all there and then!

**Zeke: **And don't forget to review!


	11. Thieves In The Night

**DR: **Welcome back everyone! I know you are all champing ab the bit to find out what River does, as well as how Atherton fits in... well wait no longer!

* * *

Chapter 11: Thieves In The Night

Inara smiled as she watched Mal and Sir Harrow discuss the job Harrow had on offer. Once again it was the transportation of livestock, which Mal was apposed to after last time. However there was also some smaller, more valuable cargo that was decidedly non-living. And, like the cattle, Harrow wanted those items moved discreetly.

Of course, Harrows mention of what the Alliance would do if he tried to send the other goods through official channels prompted them both to start discussing the Alliance in general. As they talked, Inara realised that they had a potential ally in Sir Harrow, one well placed in the scheme of things. Question was, would he be willing to get involved in open opposition to the Government, if it came down to it?

Inara shook her head. _'When, not if.'_ She had supported Unification, but only the principles. The Alliance was being revealed to be little more that a dictatorship, with the people oppressed and ignored.

She was still pondering everything they had learned recently, when a familiar voice cut across her thoughts, sending ice down her spine. "Inara! What a nice surprise to see you here! Ah... Captain Reynolds. This is not really your type of party is it?"

The three of them turned to see Atherton Wing standing there, a smug twist on his lips. Besides her, Inara could sense Mal tense up.

Warwick Harrow looked at Atherton through narrowed eyes. "Atherton Wing. I have to admit I'm surprised to see you here tonight."

"I still have some friends Sir Harrow." Wing countered. "Something you are clearly lacking since you associate with an ignorant crook and a paid whore."

Inara rolled her eyes. "Atherton... I already told you, I've given up that life."

Atherton smiled, but there was no humour in his eyes. "You can't deny who you really are Inara. No matter how much you dress up and act, you'll always spread for half a credit..."

With a jerk Mal wrenched free of the light restraining grip Inara had on his arm, and his fist struck Atherton right on the cheekbone.

"Oh gos se." Inara breathed as Atherton was knocked to one knee. Never the less, despite what she knew Mal's actions would lead to, she had to admit she did find the sight of him knocking Atherton down very pleasing... as was the fact that he had done so in defence for her. He had barely reacted to the slur against himself, but the moment Atherton had started insulting her, Mal had tensed up even further.

Mal, glowering at Atherton as he recovered himself, was unaware that the music had stopped, the people stilled as they all watched the confrontation. "Don't, call Inara that again." He told Atherton once he looked up.

Atherton however didn't seem to notice the latent threat in Mal's voice. Instead he just wiped a little blood from his upper jaw, and stood up with a triumphant smirk on his face. "I accept your challenge."

Mal froze, and then cursed under his breath. "Ta ma de…" Then he looked at the smug Atherton. "It was not my intention to challenge you Atherton. Just teach you a lesson."

"However, that is what has happened." Atherton's tone was so smug and confident that Inara wished Mal would slug him again. "You can't withdraw now."

"Just watch me." Mal said as he turned towards Inara.

"And just where will you go Captain; back to your ship?"

Something in Atherton's tone made Mal pause.

"Even as we speak, your ship is receiving a package. Fight me tomorrow at dawn, or your ship will become the heart of a fireball that will purge those disgusting docks." Atherton spoke quietly, keeping his words for Mal and Inara only.

A black look entered Mal's eyes, but he managed to keep his voice level, barely.

"I'll be there Ath."

X-X-X-X-X-X

With a deep clunk the loading ramp lowered, the low whine not loud enough to cover the ticking over of a small engine. When the ramp reached its lowered position, the engine revved a little, and a quad bike towing a trailer with a modest sized crate entered _Serenity_'s cargo hold. The two passengers on the crate hoped off, scanning the walkways above, while the one on the bike itself watched the entrance to the lower lounge area. The last passenger finished folding up and stowing an advanced looking electronic device.

River's eyes narrowed even further when she saw it. _'Alliance Remote Electronic Lock Cracker. High military grade equipment, rarely seen. These guys didn't get it legally.'_ While his attention was on the device, River quickly dived into his mind.

She viewed the human mind like a large house, with an upper and ground floor, along with a basement. The top floor contained the surface thoughts, the ground the deeper thoughts, emotions and memories, while the basement was the subconscious, the base desires and drives. Something wrong there ruined the whole house, making it crocked and warped.

Hooking onto the mans attention on the Cracker, she ran the threads of thought that linked that current thought down the stairs, into one of the many rooms on the ground floor. She hoped that there would be little for her to have to sift through, and this time her luck held. The man had only been given the device by his boss earlier that day, along with the manual. He was to return it to his employer once the mission was complete.

The mission… she pulled back, looking for hints. Again her luck held as he was already drawing them forth himself.

"Alright, you know what to do. You…" He pointed at the man who had driven the bike. "…Head aft and open the hatch. The rest of you, get this gear unloaded."

As the others bent to their tasks, the Leader grinned. River frowned as she worked out the plan. It was to be a two stage one. One large crate would be left in the hold, packed full of explosives. This would be detonated at some point, maybe later tonight, likely tomorrow morning. Shortly afterwards a second, smaller charge would go off in the aft of the ship, where the power cells for the reactor were. Before hand though, that compartment, normally sealed off, would be flooded with fuel for the wing engines and hydrogen from bottles that the men had brought. The fuel cells would become unstable, fragile powder kegs. The last part would be that the rush of heat from the blast, and the burning fuel, would cause the reactor to overheat and go critical. With all the safety interlocks disabled, there would be a run-away reaction, resulting in an uncontrolled fusion detonation. The unstable fuel cells would only add to the blast.

River did the maths, and figured that with a regular Firefly most of the Evesdown Docks would be destroyed in the resulting blast.

Silently, she began to slide back along the lip that ran above the inner airlock, before swinging herself onto the forward steps. With silent and deadly grace, she reached the deck and moved in.

The first one didn't have time to even react before her boot caught him across the cheek. While her attack was silent, the impact was not, and the other men looked up in alarm. It did them no good though, since she was already among them. The second got a jab to the solar plexus, while the third reached for her neck… and ended up sailing over her and crashing down on his back on the deck hard. The leader tried to pull his gun, but River kicked it out of his hand, before she spun around to present her back to him, at which point her elbow struck his gut, folding him over.

Each one of these men easily out massed her by almost double, but River had unleashed the weapon built into her brain, and her blows were fast, fluid and powerful. A snap-kick to the chest sent the first target back onto the deck. The second soon joined him as she swept his legs out from under him. A punch to the face put the third man, only now trying to rise, back down and out of the fight. As she stood, the Leader of the group managed to wrap his arms round her from behind, but he left her lower arms free, his mistake. Conscious of her actions this time, unlike the almost identical situation with Jayne a little over a year ago, River was unable to completely squash the blush that touched her cheeks as she used the same tactic again. The man lasted only a fraction of the time Jayne had before releasing her, staggering back until her boot heel came up behind her and struck him square on the temple. The last two rushed her, but she turned sideways and slipped between them, the toe of her boot catching one in the hamstring sending him face first into the deck. A final jab and the last one fell unconscious to the deck.

"Don't move, little bitch."

River cursed in her head. She'd forgotten about the fifth man, the one who had gone aft. Slowly she turned, readying herself to spring, but when she saw him, all the fight left her.

The man was stood just beyond the hatch, a gun in his hand. Fast as she was, River could not dodge a bullet.

"Now then, unhitch the trailer missy. The two of us are going on a little trip." The man commanded, his tongue flicking out.

"Move it girl, or I'll just shoot you now!"

Rivers eyes however were not on the man, but on the dark figure behind him.

A hand came up to the thugs neck, placing the tip of the compression injector to his artery with expect precision. Even before the man realised what was happening, the trigger was pulled.

"What thhheeerrr…" the thug slurred, before he went limp and collapsed to the deck, the gun falling loose from limp hands.

River smiled as Simon stepped into the light. But as she turned to regard the unconscious saboteurs her smile turned evil.

X-X-X-X-X-X

When Vega & Miranda returned to the ship, they were surprised to find the whole crew up and in the cargo hold, along with five men dressed in dark clothing, several with newly formed injuries. To one side sat another quad bike, along with a trailer on which was a decent sized crate and some gas cylinders. Jayne was sat by those cylinders, Vera held in his hands and pointed roughly in the direction of the men. Zoe looked sterner than usual, while Simon was sat cuddling Kaylee. After taking in all this and River idly twirling a Cylon Centurion sword, Vega asked the obvious question. "Was there something we missed?"

Zoe looked up at him to answer them both. "River stopped these folk from placing a bomb on board." Was her cold reply.

"Why?" Miranda asked.

"That's what we intend to find out." Zoe said, her eyes jumping back to the hog-tied men, a couple of whom were starting to come round. Each one quickly realised the situation they were in. However, none of them spoke, even when Jayne menacingly cocked Vera.

"Gorram it Zoe, we're not getting anywhere." Jayne snarled a little later. Vega and Miranda were sat close to Simon and Wash; Kaylee had left with them earlier, but had not returned. "This guy won't crack without his blood being spilled. Now if crazy here's start actually using that pig sticker, rather than just waving it around…"

River looked sharply at Jayne, but continued to simply hold the heavy blade. It was surprising that she could even lift it; the sword had been made for eight and a half foot tall man-shaped machines that were at least twice as strong as any human. Despite being made from Cylon alloy, it was heavy.

Vega looked across at Zoe, who looked pained. Clearly she knew what Jayne was saying. River had quickly singled out the leader of the group, and after determining that the others were grunts that knew nothing, the crew had focused on him. But the man appeared to be a fanatic, and was staying silent despite all the threats and glares. If anything, he was looking slightly smug.

That look vanished when a low growl emerged from thin air almost right above him. He started to look around worriedly, while more snarls seemed to come from behind every crate and barrel. Even _Serenity_'s crew were unsettled at first, but then they recalled their 'other' passenger.

Ghost finally revealed himself, stepping out from behind the attackers' mule, decloaked. The man's eyes widened even wider as he watched the metal demon stalk towards him.

"What is that thing!? Get it away from me!" He called towards the crew as Ghost stalked closer.

"I don't know…" Vega mused loud enough for the captive to hear. "…I think he's hungry."

Ghost snarled practically into the man's face, letting him get a good look at the sharp teeth within his mouth. The man himself was trying to crawl back, trying to get away from him.

"Call him off! For gorrams sake call him off! I'll talk, I'LL TALK!!"

Ghost took a half step forwards.

"I WORK FOR ATHERTON WING!! HE'S THE ONE YOU WANT! I WAS ACTING ON HIS ORDERS! PLEASE!!"

With an audible click Ghost snapped his jaw shut and straightened. Turning away from the still terrified man, he walked calmly over to the steps were Vega was sat, his whole pose relaxed. He did pause by Vega to address him.

"**You know I would never eat a human Vega. That was an unnecessary embellishment."**

However, only Vega took note of Ghosts words. The others were more concerned about what the captive had said. Vega and Miranda had already related the events at the ball.

"Why the guay would he have a bomb placed on board?" Wash asked loudly.

"He must have wanted a way to get revenge if Mal beats him again." Zoe shook her head. "The captain would not have accepted the fight though. Atherton must have told him about this, as a means to ensure that Mal does fight."

"Yea, and what's the betting that he won't set this off even if he wins?" Jayne put in.

Zoe was silent for a moment, and then a small smile formed on her lips. She stepped over to tower over the attacker, staring down at him…

X-X-X-X-X-X

"You've not improved Mal."

Mal sighed as he rubbed his posterior once more, where Inara had once again given him a swat with the face of the blade she held. She'd come over almost right away, leaving her room to join him in his. Unlike last time, this time she offered no escape plan, but rather had dived right into teaching him some sword practice. Also, this time she was wearing practical garments, Colonial trousers and blouse, instead of the alluringly thin nightgown of before.

"Haven't had much need to." He countered as he faced her again.

"It's not just that Mal. You're still swinging from the shoulder. It's slow and obvious. You've got to be faster." Inara turned away a little. "How can you be so unpredictable in your life, yet at the same time so obvious?"

Mal felt his features soften at her lament. It was clear that she was talking about him in general, not about his fighting technique. Not knowing the words, he stepped close enough to lay his free hand on her shoulder. Her own snaked up across her body to clasp his, as if he was threatening to let go.

"I still sometimes don't know which 'You' I'm talking to." She carried on, her eyes closed. "I can't predict which way you'll react."

"You know how I feel about you." He said gently.

She looked up at him, moisture at the corners of her eyes. "I can't watch you fight him again Mal. My heart was in my throat the whole time before."

"I won, didn't I?"

"Mal..." Exasperation coloured her voice. "...Last time he was overconfident. He underestimated you. This time he's not going to do that. He'll be out to kill you, and he won't hold back."

"Wasn't expecting him to." Mal tried to reassure her. Seeing her unconvinced face, Mal moved his had to cup her smooth cheek. "I'm not gonna die tomorrow Inara."

* * *

**DR: **And on that touching moment, we must retire, for now. Next time Mal and Atherton square off once more, and we find out just what Zoe was thinking...

**Zeke: **And keep those review coming! Now... (rushs off to prepare some popcorn)


	12. Duelling Dance

**DR: **Well, it's that time again. Today, Mal and Atherton settle things. I'll warn you all now: there is a serious wince moment near the end.

**Inara: **Ahem...

**DR: **Oh, and some Mal/Inara fluff at the end.

**Inara: **Better.

**DR: **Now, before you all start... my Beta is having some Real Life(tm) issues right now, so he has been unable to do any betaing for this story. Thus, this and later chapters like liely be unbetaed. Just warning you...

* * *

Chapter 12: Duelling Dance

As it had the last time they had met here, a fine, ground level mist clung to the grasses and curled about their boots. Nearly everything else was the same too. Some of the bushes and trees had been cut back a little, revealing the half dozen stately homes that had been hidden. Mal wondered just how many duels had been fought here, with the duellists' homes close enough to fetch aid.

Mal dragged his attention back to Atherton, who was going through a couple of practice swings to loosen up.

A low, quiet rattling clanking sound drew his attention, and Mal looked over his shoulder, past Inara, to see a small tracked vehicle approach. One that Mal recognised as a Colonial Sled. In essence it was a striped down, smaller scale version of their Land Ram APC, unarmed and without the thick armour that enclosed the passengers and crew.

Riding up front in the crew area were Starbuck and Boomer, while in the rear were Jayne and Zoe, with River standing up in the centre, looking like she was enjoying the ride tremendously.

Still, Mal knew that he had to focus on Atherton. There was a predatory look in his eyes, and the smile of before was nowhere in sight.

Then with a gesture the duel was begun.

Atherton came on quickly, bringing the fight to Mal. Lightning quick lunges and swings were only barely deflected by Mal. The ringing of steel of steel resounded throughout the clearing.

From the sidelines Inara could see that Atherton was still toying with Mal, but not by much. There was intensity to his actions that was frightening.

Mal himself was under no illusions about what was going on. He knew that Atherton was a better swordsman. Mal focused solely on defence for the moment, while he waited for an opening.

Another exchange of blows, and then Atherton's blade whipped out and slashed down Mals left forearm. Mal staggered back for a moment, before forcing himself to stand upright and ignore the wound. As Atherton moved in to strike, Mal swung in attack, but his attack came from over the shoulder and Atherton was not only able to deflect the blow, but continue the motion in such a way as to bring his blade towards Mal gut.

Mal leapt backwards just in time, Atherton's blade slicing through his shirt but not his skin. However he had no time to compose himself, as Atherton pressed hard, keeping Mal off balance. Mal staggered backwards, staying just ahead of the whirling blade in Athertons hand. It was only a matter of time before he fell, the shock of another cut on the side of a knee the final blow.

Mal hit the ground heavily, but he knew he had no time to catch his breath. Atherton was already swinging, and only a sharp roll got him out of the path. A sting in his backside however showed that Atherton had adjusted his aim.

Another blow, aimed for his outstretched arm, and Mal yanked it back to safety. The blow landed on the guard with enough force to cause him to drop his sword. Mal rolled again as Atherton swiped at him again, but it didn't stop him from hearing a metallic snapping sound. _'kwong-juh duh...' _Mal thought as he managed to get up on one knee. Sure enough, Atherton had broken this sword like before.

"Okay Ath." Mal gasped for breath. "You win."

Atherton grinned, and a dark light entered his eye. "Forgot to mention Captain. This fight is to the death!" He lunged once more, but Mal managed to throw himself aside.

Mal was worried now. He'd seen that look in other men's eyes before. The fanatical killers. Atherton fully intended to kill him, no doubt about it now.

Pushing himself onto his feet, Mal backed away from Atherton, who was grinning now, clearly anticipating his victory.

"Mal!" Rivers call grabbed his attention, and he turned his head enough to look at her... as she threw another sword from the back of the Sled. It travelled only a short distance before landing point first in the dirt, quivering only slightly.

It was her Centurion sword.

Mal looked back at Atherton, who was partly between him and the blade. Atherton also turned his head to look back at him, smiling cruelly.

He began to make small lunges, forcing Mal to react and back away. Mal quickly understood what Atherton was doing. _'He's trying to pin me in one place, well away from that sword, leaving no escape except through him.'_ His thought was interrupted by the feeling of his back rubbing against a tree. The he felt the bark give a little.

Atherton was grinning wildly now, as he jabbed again, forcing Mal back another step. His grin widened when Mal turned side on, his back pressed against the tree.

His grin vanished however when Mal's right hand whipped around from behind him, launching a large chunk of bark at his face. Atherton brought his left hand up to block it, and the lump of wood thumped into it and fell. As he lowered his arm, he realised Mal had used the bark to distract him as he ran around Atherton's left side. Snarling, he swung around, his blade slicing through the air to score down Mal's shoulder blade.

Mal hissed as he felt his flesh part under Atherton's blade, but he was free and clear. Three quick strides took him to the sword River had thrown, and he wrapped both hands around the hilt, remembering the weight of it. Behind him he could hear Atherton closing in.

With a gasp he yanked the sword out of the dirt, swinging it around as soon as it was clear. His wild swing battered Atherton's thrust aside, giving Mal another breathing space, time which he used to get a proper grip on the blade.

For a long moment they stood there squared off, Atherton side on, his thin blade held in one hand. Mal stood more head on, the large and heavy blade held in a two handed grip. Then Atherton attacked in a flurry of short, snap blows before making a strike that would disembowel Mal.

Mal managed to fend off the first few blows, but he realised he couldn't block that final blow. He brought the heavy blade down, trying to divert the blow into his leg instead.

Neither they, nor anyone around, expected for his blade to smash Atherton's apart.

Atherton staggered as the shock of the blow travelled up his arm, the remains of his sword spinning wildly down to land at Mal's feet. Mal, finding himself with the advantage, swung back upwards, towards Atherton.

He tried to block with what was left of his blade, but Mal's smashed through that just as easily as it had before, before the point sliced up the inside of his left thigh and up his body to finally emerge under his right collar.

Cruelly, it also ran right through his crotch on its way up.

Atherton went as white as a sheet before collapsing to the ground, clutching at his ruined groin as he did so.

Mal sighed as he lowered the heavy blade. The duel was over, he could go home now. Wincing, he turned and walked towards his friends and crew. Behind him Atherton's remaining courtiers crouched down to attend to him. However, he fought past the pain to snatch a device from the one courtier, before yelling towards Mal's back.

"Don't think you've won this Captain! You ruined me, now I'll ruin you!" And with that he pressed the button on the remote.

There was a muted crump like sound, then smoke billowed out from one of the manors nearby, near the ground. Licks of flame leapt into the air as the building collapsed.

Atherton stared in horror at the rising plume of smoke and flame. Mal frowned, then look at Zoe, who was barely keeping a smile off her face.

"Zoe?"

"Oh, River discovered Atherton's men planting the bomb. After she kicked their asses, we decided to return it." She turned to regard Jayne as another ball of fire rose. "You were messing around with those cylinders, weren't you?"

Jayne, grinning, just shrugged.

Chuckling, Mal walked towards the Sled, Inara at his side the whole way.

He was laughing even harder later, despite his injuries, when he learned that the small crate that had been sat in the cargo area of the Sled had been filled with Atherton's money, 'liberated' from his personal vault as Jayne was placing the main charge.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal slowly eased down the ladder to his bunk. Unlike last time, Simon had allowed him to climb down. However, he was under strict medical orders to 'take things easy'.

Mal snorted at the thought. He was no hero like Achilles. Their stop on Persephone had been a little too 'interesting' for his tastes.

Reaching the bottom, he nearly missed the last rung when he got a look inside. Because there, sat on his bunk reading, was Inara.

"Okay... what are you up to?" He asked, stepping down on to the deck. He kept one hand on the ladder though.

Inara slowly closed the book – a real book, one she must have picked up on Zi – and looked up at him. "I figured that you could use some help Mal."

A flurry of images rushed through Mal's mind. He was hard pressed to push them back. "Inara... I've been getting myself ready for bed for a long time now."

She sighed. "I remember how you were after your last two duels Mal. What has changed since then?"

She had him there. Feeling exhaustion sweeping through him, Mal sighed.

"Okay, I give in Inara."

Nodding in silent thanks, she rose. He noted, as much as his injuries allowed, that she was also dressed for bed. It took him a minute to realise it was the same nightgown and dressing robe she'd worn the night before his first duel with Atherton.

He hesitated when it came to remove his pants, prompting an eye roll from her. "Honestly Mal. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

At last he laid down on the bunk, the one luxury he had allowed himself Before ZI, and now only better. After sleeping most nights on cold, hard ground or rock, or equally as hard – and nowhere near as comfortable – army bunks, he had been sure to get a real, soft comfortable bunk.

Inara sat on the edge as he laid there, her expression confused and worried. He looked at her.

"I thought I would lose you..." She half whispered after a long moment.

Saying nothing, he clasped one of her hand in his own, her fine-boned fingers vanishing within his own solid ones. She smiled, then bent down to gently kiss him.

While they had finally admitted to each other that they had feelings for the other a little over a year ago, things had been progressing very slowly. A few chaste kisses were about the sum of what they had done, with a couple of searing ones when they knew they would not be undisturbed. The previous night, Inara had pushed them both with her coaching, to the point were she had been too tired to return to her own room. They had ended up sharing a bed, but had both been too exhausted to fully _explore_ the options.

This kiss was at once desperate and soothing. Mal allowed himself to luxuriate in the slightly spicy taste that was Inara.

Slowly they parted, and he watched as she held her eyes closed until she had half straightened. He looked into her eyes, and saw a wide range of dancing emotions, most of which he couldn't label.

He cleared his throat, pushing down the lump that suddenly filled it. "You'd best get back to your shuttle." He whispered hoarsely.

"I know. Perhaps." She answered, her tone regretful. After a long pause, she hung her head. "But I don't want to." She whispered barely loud enough for him to hear her.

That lump returned, and this time it produced words. "Neither do I."

She looked up at him sharply, before a small smile formed on her face. She stood and stepped towards the entrance. Before Mal could feel disappointment however, she stopped at the side of the alcove that contained the ladder up, and tapped the controls. Mal heard the hatch above closing and sealing, then the main lights dimmed, reducing her to little more than a silhouette. She stepped back, and then shrugged off the dressing gown. With a small purr, she slid in next to him, one arm snaking across his body as her head came to rest just below his collarbone. One smooth, gloriously bare leg twined with his own, and she purred once more.

Smiling, he reached up with his free hand – the other was already wrapped round her – and turned the lights off completely.

* * *

**DR: **There you all go. I hope that satisfied all you love junkies. And no, Atherton will not be making a return appearance.

**Zeke: **So what's next?

**DR: **Next time... we have some more ship battling, as a small fleet of Alliance ships takes on the Thunderchild...(evil laughter)... till then!


	13. Shattered Fist

**DR: **I am SO sorry for the delay people. FF had some kind of fault earlier that prevented me from uploading this. With that, we'll jump right in...

* * *

Chapter 13: Shattered Fist

Achilles leaned back in his seat, taking a few microns – _minutes_, he corrected – to relax. Mal's adventure on the planet had been stressful for them all.

A twinge in his side made him grimace. He had made a fully recovery, but the doctors had warned him that he might experience odd aches from his injuries. Little reminders of how badly he had been hurt. Not that he was likely to forget himself. The event was pretty much engraved into his brain.

Sighing, he pushed that thought aside, favouring instead to not think of anything much, letting his gaze rest on an image of Athena that rested on his desk...

The buzz of the intercom ruined the quiet moment. _"Bridge to Colonel Achilles."_

Another sigh, this one of exasperation, escaped Achilles lips as he reached over and thumbed the console. "Yes?"

"_Sir, long range sensors are picking up a number of large craft moving to intercept our course. Four have been confirmed as Alliance Cruisers."_

Instantly Achilles training and experience took over, all annoyance gone. "Sound the alert. I'm coming up."

Even before he stepped out of his quarters the alert siren began its two tone wail. There was a fast paced bustle around him as he strode towards the bridge. Achilles could picture what was going on throughout the mighty ship. Not that removed from such service himself, he knew the pilots would have reacted instantly to the alert, jumping up and running for the launch bays, grabbing jackets and helmets en-route. Crewmen would be leaping up from their bunks, some still asleep even as they reached vertical. The ship itself came alive, as the circuit that triggered the alarm also pre-started the weapon systems, a refinement developed to cut the delay between an alert being called and the ship being combat ready. By now the storage cells would already be humming as they held the enormous charges needed to fire the battlecruiser's deadly weapons. Blast doors would be sliding into place, and the integrated shield generators would start crackling about now, ready to project the wondrous shield bubble that would hold back hostile fire.

The bridge echoed with status reports detailing his ships readiness as he stepped into it. "Situation report." He called as he stepped up to the command podium.

"Sir, nine ships have cut across out path to the target world and have come about to face us head on. Scans suggest seven light cruiser equivalents, plus two frigate equivalents." His XO reported.

Achilles nodded as he sank into his chair, one of the few things he had demanded for his ship, back at the Scorpia Shipyards. A Lifetime ago it seemed. "Form scans?"

"Coming up now sir." The senior sensor operator called. "We have four confirmed Alliance Cruisers, plus three unknown designs." She added.

Achilles turned his attention to the large screen in the bank before him. Outlines of the new ships quickly formed, giving a good look at all three new designs. The first was clearly a warship, a long, thick bar with engines at one end. A ring surrounded the ships waist, from which there were eight large protrusions. Achilles would be very surprised if those weren't weapons.

The second followed a similar design principle to the first, and had elements that tied it with Colonial design. It had a sharp, arrowhead prow that emerged from under a shell of thick armour that covered almost the rest of the ship. The whole design was similar to a short dagger, with the engines forming the grip. It struck Achilles that this was a more modern design than either of the others.

The last craft was the frigate. A narrow, wedge shaped prow led into a thin hull, with long, slightly tapered fins that rose vertically either side of the engines. What really drew Achilles attention was the massive turret that sat on the hull just before those fins. Easily making up a quarter, if not more, of the ships mass, the twin barrels on that turret were almost a third of the length of the ship itself.

After studying the images for a few more moments, Achilles looked up to his crew.

"Helm, bring us up to half speed. Communications, tell _Serenity_ to hang back. No need to risk her in this."

_Thunderchild _eased forwards, interposing herself between the Alliance ships and _Serenity_. For the next few minutes, everyone waited, wondering what the Alliance wanted.

They knew soon enough.

"_Attention 'Colonial' vessel. You have violated Alliance controlled space, and fired on Alliance shipping. You are to power down and surrender your ship and crew for war crimes. If you do not surrender, we will use deadly force."_

"Sir, we're picking up launches from the cruisers. More gunships, plus smaller craft."

"Fighters..." Achilles muttered to himself. "Very well. Stand by to launch fighters. Open a channel." He breathed deeply before speaking again, this time addressing his words to the Alliance captains.

"Alliance ships, this is the Colonial Battlecruiser _Thunderchild_. We came here on a peaceful mission, but were forced to defend ourselves from your own ship, the _Dominator._ We will not stand down to your blustering. Surely the _Dominator's _captain relayed our message?"

There was a long pause from the other end of the channel, while ahead the Alliance fighters and gunships formed a screen ahead of the larger ships.

"_We got the message all right. The deaths of over seven hundred Alliance personal, as well as the destruction of the _Dominator_, are on _your_ heads."_

Achilles frowned. "We did not destroy the _Dominator_, only crippled her..."

"_Do not lie!" _The unnamed Alliance commander snarled. _"Surrender now, or face the consequences!"_

Achilles sighed. This was about to get ugly. Cutting the channel, he turned to address his crew.

"Positive shields. Launch fighters... now."

"Energy shields sir?" Before Achilles could answer, another crewman called out.

"Sir, Vega is requesting permission to mobilise."

Achilles allowed a chuckle to escape his calm. "Negative. Tell Vega to tell the Fury that there'll be other battles to fight. That zoid is our Wild Card. I want to keep them a secret as long as we can. As for the energy shields..." He pondered the issue for a moment. "Activate the generators, but hold the shields down for the moment. I want to bring them up as soon as possible, if they're needed." As his orders were relayed, Achilles turned to regard one monitor, showing the Vipers leaping from their tubes.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Starbuck smiled as he led Blue Squadron across space off the _Thunderchild_'s left bow. Boomer took Red in a mirror position on the starboard, and ahead was a screen of Alliance fighter type craft and their 'gunships', though Starbuck was inclined to re-name them 'Missile Lugging Targets'. Clearly designed to operate in an atmosphere, they were poorly set up for space combat. The fighter craft looked more the part, though their formations and deployment were still clearly rooted in atmospheric thinking.

Behind him, Blue Squadron was in attack 'formation', ready to pounce. 'Formation' could only be used loosely, since it was simply that all craft were within a set distance of the lead ship, his. Colonial Warriors were trained first to fight independently, then to work together. In the high speed, darting and totally relative realm of space combat, it was all too easy to loose track of your wingman, and to be picked off while looking for him. So the Colonials took that requirement out of Warrior flying, and the effect had been apparent almost straight away. Kill-to-Loss ratios went up.

Starbuck looked over his right shoulder. _Thunderchild _seemed to be crouched, ready to be unleashed on the inferior ships that dared challenge her.

Ahead, beyond the screen of fighters and gunships, the Alliance warships were in a nice formation. The four 'Dominator' type cruisers formed a square plane at the rear, with the three other cruiser types in an arrowhead formation just in front, the sleek, modern craft took point. The two smaller ships were on the flanks and already moving up.

He could see individual fighters now, in flights of three each. The 'fighters' were blocky, inelegant craft, with a distinct lack of grace.

Then his sensors started warbling as across the four monolithic cruisers missile plumes erupted all across their surfaces, thin vapour trails tracing the arcs of the warheads as they swung about to bear into towards the Colonial battlecruiser.

It was the sign. "Blue Squadron, launch missiles, then break and engage!" Starbuck ordered as his thumb struck the missile launch button before mashing down on the 'turbo' button on his flight stick. The whine of the trio of ion engines was replaced by a roar as he was pushed back into his seat; the turbo's were so powerful they overwhelmed the force shield that cancelled out gee-forces for a few moments. All around him the other Vipers leapt forwards.

The Alliance pilots were several seconds from firing range when the oncoming fighters released missiles... and leapt forwards right on the missiles heel's. Even as the front flights began to evade, the Colonials opened fire, brilliant red darts lashing out from their wing mounted pulse lasers. Alliance fighters died as their pilots suddenly had to try and avoid incoming missiles, the laser blasts, and the charging Vipers as well. Very few managed all three.

Blue Squadron tore through the front rank in seconds, and continued to burn hard and crashed into the second. Those fighters scattered, their cohesion in tatters after the Colonial assault. Many of the pilots were shocked at the raw speed of the Colonial craft... shock which cost them dearly as they fell prey to the deadly bolts.

Cutting his turbo, Starbuck swung round and settled on the tail of a gunship that had gone wide. The much larger craft swung its nose towards the main fight, but before it could do anything else Starbucks lasers tore into it. The slender fuselage ruptured as the fuel went up.

On the other side of the battle, Red Squadron achieved the same effect, only that Boomer had his squadron lock their missiles onto the larger gunships that trailed behind the fighters. The Alliance pilots, thrown off by the stream of missiles that raced past them – but didn't try to track them – were cut apart by accurate laser fire.

In the middle space lit up with dozens of detonations as the point defence lasers on the _Thunderchild _swatted missile after missile away. Two larger, faster missiles fired by the lead cruiser type were taken out just as easily as the missiles fired from the other four. The mass of explosions detonated close to a formation of Alliance fighters... too close. Several were consumed by the fireballs before they cleared the larger ships lines of fire. The final two cruiser type craft, which had not launched any missiles, powered forwards. Or rather, began to slowly over take their arrowhead shaped consort. The frigates on the flanks began to cut inwards, clearly aiming to cut across the battlecruisers stern, to strike at her engines.

The Alliance fighters began to recover from the shock, and started to engage. The Vipers were much, much faster and heavily armed, but the Alliance craft had one advantage; they could strafe, flying in one direction with the crafts nose – and thus the weapons – pointed in another.

Tentatively the Alliance pilots began to fire back, bursts of tracer whipping out from their lightweight railguns. However, the speed of the vipers was too great at first, racing in too fast to track. Each time a pilot lined up a shot, the Viper would dart away in a manoeuvre that should have left the pilot nothing more than a red stain in the crafts cockpit.

Finally one of the squadron leaders got into a perfect position, and he cut loose with his guns. The morale of the Alliance pilots was crumbling rapidly, they needed a kill against these strange fighters otherwise the whole force might break and run. Pushing his engines to full, he rocketed after the Viper, cannons hammering.

The rounds streaked across the gap between the two fighters... and then sparked off the energy shield that surrounded the Viper that up till this point had been undetected. Some did get through, but their motion was so retrograded that the effect they had on the Viper was same as thrown dry sponges.

Suddenly, the Viper he was firing on seemed to stop almost completely dead, and the Alliance pilot had to juke upwards to avoid a collision. Realising that the hostile was behind him now, he tried to jink away, but twin red bolts sheared his engines off before the fighter exploded in a bright flare of flame.

Starbuck swooped away from the dying fighter. Despite being back in a Viper, he felt only a little of thrill he got when engaging the Cylons. Looking at the fight, he realised why.

Firstly, the Alliance was so out classed it was not even funny any more. The Colonials weren't fighting these pilots, they were simply slaughtering them. So far not even one Viper had been destroyed, while the Alliance craft were being cut to ribbons.

Secondly, and more profoundly, was the simple fact that the pilots of those craft were human. It was easy to hate the Cylons, unfeeling, near mindless machine drones. But these were human beings just like him. They had hopes, dreams and families of their own. Starbuck had, in the past, been directed to engage pirates and other renegades back home a couple of times, and each time it left a sour taste in his mouth. But this was worse. These pilots weren't criminals, or pirates, but men just following orders.

Then one broke off the battle and raced for the Alliance Cruisers at full burn. Then a wing pair, then another one... then the whole lot were breaking away and fleeing for home. Starbuck sighed in relief. A couple of Vipers turned to follow.

"Let them go guys." Starbuck ordered. "Their no threat to us."

As Blue Squadron formed up, Starbuck called for a status report. As he half expected, not one Viper was lost. A few of the rookie pilots had allowed themselves to get caught in crossfire, with damage inflicted. Nothing serious though.

A bright blue flash caught his eye, and Starbuck turned his head to look. One of the frigates had fired its oversized main gun, and the blue bolt had struck _Thunderchild_ on her port wing, striking one of the square panels that formed the outer hull of the ship there. Small chucks of metal whirled away from the hit...

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Damage report!"

"Direct hit to port wing sir. Thirty-percent damage to armour plate. No breach."

Achilles heaved a slight sigh of relief. He'd wanted to know just what the Alliance weapons could do. So far, the oversized, relatively primitive pulse laser system on the frigates was the most dangerous they had seen.

He glanced at the latest screen to be added around his command chair. One of the zoid based upgrades allowed for a real time, exact display of damage to the ship, regardless of the severity. With it, he could see at a glance where his armour was thinning, were the hull breaches were, even where power systems were shorted.

On the screens, the two block shaped cruisers had closed in, and were beginning to fire their ring mounted guns. Even as their first shots reached out for them, Achilles nodded. "All stations, fire."

The crew had not been idle while they waited for the Alliance to close. They had been scanning the ships, looking for weak points and other places where they could cripple them with destroying them. Now with those targets locked into the firing computers, the weapons opened up.

From the bow a beam lashed out, slicing right through the middle of one of the rear-guard cruisers, separating the two towers. The beam on the other side sliced into the guts of the assault cruiser to starboard, ripping it open like a scalpel. The deadly beam slid along the cruisers belly before boring into the engineering spaces. The cruisers engines sputtered and died as all power failed.

The other cruiser suffered a deluge of medium turbolasers, each blast taking out thrusters, weapons and sensors. In a matter of seconds the cruiser was rendered blind, toothless and with no means of control. Ahead, the sleek ship suffered twin megalaser attacks, each pair of blue-white bolts vaporising the missile bays and gutting the cruisers mid-section. The third dorsal megalaser stabbed off to the side, and with a brilliant flash they disintegrated the turret housing for the frigates main gun. With one strike, the small warship was rendered a non-threat.

The other frigate had been more accurate with its fire, and had annoyed the Colonial crew. That frigate was sliced open from bow to stern by one of the _Thunderchild_'s side mounted beam lasers. The frigates hull peeled back from the deep gash.

The three keel mounted megalasers focused their fire and broke another 'Tower' type cruiser in two, their triple blasts achieving the same result as the beam had on the other ship. Finally, numerous light turbolaser turrets tracked and destroyed several larger fighter type craft, and their escorting gunships, which had been setting up for an attack run on the Colonial warship. The survivors scattered and fled back to their home ships.

Within the space of a minute, the bulk of the Alliance fleet was taking out of the fight.

For a long moment, no shots were fired. The Alliance fighters, greatly reduced in strength and numbers, regrouped around the two remaining active cruisers. Both Viper squadrons gathered on each side of _Thunderchild_, while from behind her _Serenity_ eased up. Of the other Alliance ships, only the one frigate was capable of moving itself, the rest were adrift.

Achilles waited a few seconds longer, then motioned to his officers to hail the Alliance. "Attention Alliance vessels. Do you yield?"

The same person as before came on, though the view was broken a little by static. The bridge behind him was smoke filled, and over the audio the wailing of alarms could be heard. The man's pose was one of defect. _"Colonial vessel... yes, we... surrender."_

Achilles smiled. "No, not surrender. Just a ceasefire. We'll leave the field of battle now, and allow you to tend to your wounded and rescue trapped crewmen. Which reminds me, we picked up almost sixty personal from the _Dominator_, left behind when your ship fled. I'm going to release them into your care. They will confirm what I told you before, that we did not destroy their ship."

On the screen the other man straightened a little. _"Thank you. We'll send a transport for them."_

Achilles nodded before signing off, least his feelings escaped onto his face. Letting them collect their prisoners was the smart thing to do – it allowed them to salvage some honour, as well as eliminated the risk of them taking a Colonial shuttle – but something didn't feel right...

* * *

**O'Neill: **This isn't going to be good...

**McQueen: **I'm a Car, and even I could of told you that!

**DR: **Once again, I apologise for the delay people. I'll try and make it up to you all...


	14. Double Cross

**DR: **Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter for you. I'm almost finished typing this story up, so there's no point holding you back any more. Expect weekly updates from now on.

**O'Neill: **Cool.

**Teal'c: **Indeed.

**DR: **Just to warn you all, this is going to be one of thse 'blood n' guts' type chapters. I don't go into too much detail, but things do get messy. Be warned...

* * *

Chapter 14: Double Cross

The Alliance transport was a graceless thing, a flattened tube with a cluster of engines at the rear and a rounded nose and cockpit at the front. Two large wings ran along its sides, clearly intended to swing out in an atmosphere, but to be tucked away when in space. Guided, and guarded, by a pair of Vipers, it now was on approach for Alpha Bay.

Achilles watched the sensor screens, unable to shake his concerns. They had already scanned the ship for explosives, but there wasn't any, nor were there any weapons. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy.

The recovered crewmen and women from the _Dominator _were stood together neared the lit landing area, a half dozen crewmen watching them. There were fifty-seven of them all told; along with the woman who they had picked up in an escape pod, four others had wanted to stay.

The transport had now entered the bay, and was slowly approaching the landing area. There was nothing untoward, and yet that knot of anxiety only grew.

As the lean ship settled down, the gathered Alliance personal began to drift towards it, clearly eager to board and get off his ship...

Suddenly something leapt from the hatchway of the ship even before the side ramp had fully lowered. A tongue of flame erupted from the shape even as it landed, and Achilles could only watch as several of the Alliance personal stumbled and fell... as did the Colonial crewman behind them.

More black suited figures raced out of the ship, some firing off bursts from guns, others charging brazenly, gleaming blades in their hands. The Alliance crew backed up, obviously in panic. Some clearly tried to communicate with these men, but they were ignored. These... _monsters_ cut them down as they went for the Colonial crewmen, leaving bloody trails in their path. From the far side of the transport more black suited figures raced out, running faster than any human ever could.

"Seal Alpha Bay NOW! Evacuate Alpha pod of all personal, except warriors!" As the crew frantically began to yell orders into their comms, Achilles watched as the assaulting troops butchered even more of their own people, their long blades dripping blood. Behind the massacre, one figure hurled itself at the hatch that had just sealed in its face. The hatch withstood the assault, and despite not being able to see the persons face, the pose was clearly one of confusion.

It only lasted a couple of seconds, as the figure raised one misshapen arm, and a bright needle fine laser beam emerged from one lump, and began to cut into the hatch. A second joined in on the assault on the hatch. Several others were clawing at vents, trying to literally rip the covers off.

"Tell the marines to move in and prepare to repel boarders."

X-X-X-X-X-X

The two molten lines joined, and with a heavy thud the section of hatch contained within was pushed out. The Alliance Special Troops poured out, each silent except for their footsteps. Across the bay, the other hatch they had attacked also failed, and more troops pushed outwards. A vent within the bay was also ripped off, and the last four troops crawled within, worming their way deeper into the Colonial ship.

The ten troops moved quietly and quickly, with deadly intent. But the ship around them was silent. Not one crewman crossed their path.

Then the lead trooper stepped out into a larger, broader corridor... and was struck in the flank by a thick red beam.

The skin at the point of impact was super heated, a small localised explosion that knocked the trooper flat. Despite the grievous wound in his flank, the trooper stood back up as his companions rushed out and charged towards the source of the bolt.

A full squad of Colonial Marines awaited them several dozen meters away. As the Alliance assault troops charged, they cut loose with their blaster rifles. The first trooper fell, a half dozen blaster bolts tearing his chest apart. The second lost an arm, but continued to run towards the Colonials at a frightening rate. Another volley of blaster fire cut him down, but there were still several more coming.

Bullets began to fly back at the Marines, who were kneeling in hatchways and lying prone on the deck. Most clattered off their armour, but some hit the small gaps between the plates. However, the inner layers of their armour were made from a tough weave threads, and they reduced the impact of the rounds a lot. Even so, the men within still felt the hits.

A third Alliance trooper fell, one leg sheared off, when the Colonial sergeant decided to change tactics. "Specialist, open up!"

The other marines ducked back into cover, ceasing fire on the Alliance troops. This was because the squad's 'Specialist' had brought _his_ weapon to bear. The Specialists were the marines' heavy weapon personal, intended to give squads the means to engage targets that could shrug off blaster fire, or deal with certain tactical situations.

The marines had ducked back because the weapon now bearing on the intruders was going to make that corridor a very dangerous place to be.

With a roar the 10mm pulse repeater laser cut loose, spewing forth a deluge of bolts. Based on the old 20mm laser and old Earth Vulcan weaponry, the Repeater fired heavy anti-infantry bolts that were not much less powerful that the blasts from the older laser cannons. Against infantry, even armoured infantry, they were overkill.

After five seconds, and over a hundred bolts, the trooper ceased fire, and the others emerged, looking down the corridor.

Nothing moved apart from the wisps of steam from four of the seven bodies.

Seven bodies.

At a gesture from the sergeant, the six regular marines moved up, alert.

Although they were expecting it, the attack was still a shock when it came. One of the Alliance troopers leapt out from a narrow cross passage so quickly it was almost a flash of black. Both feet crashed into the marine targeted, sending him bowling across the passageway. A swung arm brought a heavy blade into the chest of the marines buddy, but the armour the man wore saved him from a disembowelling strike. The force was enough however to break several ribs and send him crashing to the deck.

The Trooper didn't last long, as the other four marines blasted it before it could move again.

Then the second struck, the long curved blades lashing out and almost ripping the flesh from the back of a marines leg off. The trooper rolled and evaded the return fire, lashing out with its own guns, one shot catching a marine in the jaw. The trooper rolled into an open hatchway, but before the Marines could think about going after it there was a roar of an organoid, before there were the sounds of struggle. Then a wet sounding snap. The organoid growled to let the others know it had won.

As a medic began to tend to the wounded marines, the sergeant hurried up the corridor to where one had called for him. There they looked down onto the last of the Alliance Troopers, at last able to get a good look.

The trooper was human, at least in form. The figure was covered head to toe in a matt black skin suit, thicker in areas. The forearms were lumpy, with the muzzles of gun barrels poking out over the back of the hands, and a long blade that reached out from the underarm. A shorter blade reached up the front of the shin to just above the knee. The figure within the suit was well muscled, the face hidden by a forbidding mask. A belt held a number of small pouches.

The Trooper was wounded, badly. One leg was missing from above the knee, and the left arm was hanging useless. The large, head sized crater over the left shoulder blade explained that. There was also a blaster wound to the gut, and yet despite the horrific injuries the Trooper was trying to get up and attack them. Only the marines boot on the right forearm kept the Trooper from attacking them with the weapons there.

Looking over their captive, the sergeant noted how the body suit appeared to have an inner layer of wire mesh. But what shocked him was an observation he only just noticed.

The bone of the Troopers left thigh was protruding out from the charred flesh. Thing was, the bone was not bone at all, but metal.

The sergeant quickly whacked the Trooper on the temple with the butt of his blaster to knock it out. The trooper seemed dazed for a moment, but then continued to struggle. It took three hits in succession to render him unconscious.

X-X-X-X-X-X

On the other side of the landing bay the Alliance Troopers reached the Colonial marines before they could set up a fire point. Two were blasted before they closed, but then the fight descended into a brutal melee. The blinding speed of the Alliance Troops was matched only by their strength... and the durability of the Colonial's armour. Time and time again blows that would have alright killed a marine were deflected or greatly reduced by the armour.

It didn't save all of them. No body armour, no matter how good, is ever all protective. However, the battle of attrition favoured the marines, assisted by a number of Warriors led by Starbuck arriving and taking shots at the Troopers when they could.

The last troop managed to thrust his arm blade into the marine sergeant, going in underneath his arm. The blade punctured a lung before lodging in the Colonial's collar bone. Despite the pain, the sergeant drew his sidearm with his free hand and shot the trooper in the face before he collapsed from the pain and blood loss.

Of the remaining four Troopers, one slipped out of the ducts early... and right into the sights of a half dozen Warriors, who wasted no time unloading into the dark figure. He made it within three metres of them before finally falling to the deck. The Warriors took no chances, and put a couple dozen more shots into the prone figure.

The last three were crawling spider like through the ducts, and were close to the junction that led into the main hull when a wall of fire rushed at them. The lead Trooper writhed in the flames, cooked alive within its armour, as the other two beat a hasty retreat. The rear one exited the ducts, only to find itself staring do the barrel of a huge gun, held by a Marine. As the Trooper lifted its foot to charge, the Marine fired. The 30mm laser, formerly a Viper weapon, left very little remains.

The last Alliance Trooper was the team leader. Seeing that all its operatives were dead, it set off the bandoliers of explosives it carried. The blast tore apart the duct work around it, but did very little damage to the ship itself.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Sir, report from the Marine Lieutenant. All hostiles eliminated, and the Alliance transport has been secured."

Achilles nodded, his eyes narrowed. "Get me the Alliance Commander. And make sure the other ships receive this too."

Rather than taste their captains ire, the bridge crew hurried to do as he ordered.

The Alliance captain appeared on screen, the bridge behind him in better condition. _"Colonel. I was not expected you to contact us again."_

"And why would you think that? Maybe because you expected me to be dead?" Achilles words were colder than space.

The Alliance operative sighed slightly. _"To a degree, yes. Now, are you calling to surrender?"_

"No. I'm calling to inform you that your boarding party that you slipped into the transport sent over for the crewmen we offered to return to you – _in an act of good faith_ – have been defeated."

The operative's eyes widened in shock. _"You're lying."_

Achilles smiled grimly. "Oh, it gets better. Your men slaughtered the crewmen waiting to board your ship. _Your own _men_ butchered _them_._"

"_No... It's not possible."_

"Lieutenant, run the recording from the monitors in Alpha Landing Bay, from just as the Alliance transport entered the bay."

The recording ran, and Achilles made himself watch it through again. Watch as the Alliance crew were torn apart by troops from their own side, watch as blood went flying. This time around, he noted that the Colonial crewmen did manage to get a few shots off. One trooper was hit twice, another a glancing in the arm. As the recording came to a close, a crewman handing him a transcript. He glanced at it as the Alliance operative came back online.

"My men have found nineteen of your people still alive in the bay. Once the medics have stabilised them, we'll have them, and the bodies of the dead, loaded onto your transport, which will be free to return to you."

On the screen the Alliance Operative looked at him impassively. _"Colonel, you and your crew are dead men if you do not surrender now. Once the fleet is brought to bear, you can not survive."_

"If your 'fleet' is of the same grade as the ships you sent at us here, then you are mistaken. We could have destroyed all your ships before you were even in range to engage us. Compared to what we were trained to fight, _you are_ _nothing._" Achilles tone was filled with certainty. "You attack us again, you'll only be sending people to their deaths, needlessly."

_Thunderchild _began to move past the ruined Alliance fleet, _Serenity _tucked safely underneath her. None of the Alliance ships moved, or tried to lock weapons.

Except one.

The Arrowhead cruiser suddenly swung about, till it was pointed at the larger Colonial ship. Engines flaring randomly, it began to accelerate towards the _Thunderchild_.

Achilles sighed. His ship could easily get out of the way, but that would mean revealing the extent of her power. Wanting to keep it a secret as long as possible, he knew what he had to do.

"Gunnery control, lock onto that ship. Fire on my mark. Hail them."

He stared at the screen. The Alliance didn't reply, but he knew they could hear him.

"Don't. Don't make us kill you."

The Alliance ship came on.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal watched with baited breath as the Alliance ship, identical to the one that he reckoned the Operative who'd caused him to go to Miranda – the planet, not the young woman – came thundering towards _Thunderchild_, her intent clear. He also heard Achilles request, and the lack of reply.

Just when he began to think that Achilles wouldn't give the order, his ship opened fire.

A hail of red laser bolts tore into the already battered ship. The sharp, arrow like prow softened and warped, great sheets of metal sloughing off as it began to run molten. Explosions tore her apart from within as the lasers bit deep. A bright glare marked the death of her reactor, and in a series of blasts the remains of the ship were tore apart. The twisted remains drifted away, none heading near the Colonial ship.

Mal looked towards the other Alliance ships. None of them seemed to notice the death of one of their own. They stayed quiet, the only movement being the still active craft moving towards their listing comrades.

Soon those ships were left behind, and space around them was empty once more.

* * *

**Zeke: **(from behind sofa) Is it over?

**DR: **Yes, it's over. For now.

**Lightninng: **(flicks through set of pages)Hmm... so next time we...

**DR: **LIGHTNING!

**Lightning: **ARRGGHH! *Vroomm!* (races out in a squeal of tires)

**DR: **Truthfully, I'm considering merging the next two chapters. Both are a little shorter than chapter 12, but combined are longer than the previous. Let me know which you'd like people, one long or two short...


	15. Dark Council

**DR: **I confess. Over this last week I had another look at this chapter and the next, and ended up writing a couple more scenes for them both. I also reorganised the original scenes themselves. The first one here, for example, was originally the first one of next chapter.

**Bit: **Ah, who cares. Let's just get on with it!

**Teal'c: **Indeed.

* * *

Chapter 15: Dark Council

Count Iblis, for lack of a better expression, was not happy.

He existed in an astral plain, glaring at the Colonial Battlecruiser, hate coursing through his veins. His fists were clenched at his sides, and yet, he could not do a thing. Those meddling light fools were watching him far too closely now. He could out fight any one, but together they would overpower him with ease.

So he was reduced to just glaring, as the _Thunderchild _moved away from the ruined Alliance Fleet. Not even feasting on the souls of the damned that the Colonials had inadvertently sent him could curb his anger. He knew that this single ship could destroy something he had been working on for centuries.

He'd first come across the planet known as Earth to its inhabitants almost a millennia ago. With the new Cylon Empire now formed, he'd turned his attention to the humans of Earth and began to subtly guide their development. It was nothing more than a whisper in the back of a man's mind, a nudge in a given direction, but from his small prods he'd witnessed great things grow.

As they had developed at faster and faster rates, he had been forced to direct more and more attention to directing them. As he had learned later, this had caused the Colonials to have the breathing space they needed to close the gap between themselves and his Cylon servants, and thus fight them off in a stalemate.

Earth humans had required all his guile, wit and charisma to control. The planet had transformed into a powder keg, delicately balanced, and he had realised that he had to keep it balanced until the time was right.

As he had waited for the right moment, he'd feasted on the fallen souls of humans, those whose actions were directed by him, and thus condemned as evil by their fellows. Napoleon and his generals. The Spanish Inquisitors. Blood thirsty pirates and dictators throughout the ages. Soldiers who killed, raped and defiled because they could. Murderers and drug dealers. The Nazis, and all those who took revenge against them. The Tzars, and those who toppled and executed them. Extremists from all religions. Crimes of hate were delightful works of art for his eyes, and the screams of the innocent victims' music to his ears. And the taste of human souls... he found them intoxicating. The sweetest were those of the innocent, but he could not feast on them except in rare circumstances.

And all the while he dropped a thought here, an impulse there, and slowly he watched his influence grow in the minds of mankind. He was hamstrung by their pathetically short life spans, but he could influence the thinking of a generation a little, and then the one after that he could twist a little more, and the one after even more.

By the end of the 21st century, he knew the time was almost right. Unlike with the Cylons, he had directed humanity to explore organic technology, bending and twisting their own genome. Of course, nearly all the humans knew nothing of this work. Only a select few, which Iblis had invested even more of his time, were aware of the project. Plans were already set for a mass culling of the rest of humanity, to make way for a new, ordered society. He even had thought about pitting these humans against his Cylon pets, to see which would become the stronger, more potent race.

Then everything went to hell, as the humans said. Iblis' hands clenched tighter as he recalled that day, when two separate wormholes, each with a unique temporal signature, had opened almost right on top of the centre were the development of the special cells was being done.

Ten beings had emerged between them. He'd realised quickly that these were future products of the work carried out here, coming back through time to prevent it! However, this realisation came too late to stop them, and all Iblis plans for humanity came crashing down.

Swearing off biological means, he'd returned many years later, and found a pleasant surprise. While he'd been away venting, humanity had continued with machine technology, and had just created their first AI's. Seeing a chance for supreme irony, he'd reached into the minds of the people, dragging up old feuds and grudges, while at the same time reaching deep into the AI's programs. Very quickly, wars had broken out, and everything was set for the AI's to rebel and slaughter their former masters.

Convinced that the Cybrids would perform as well as the Cylons had, he'd moved elsewhere.

However, Earth humans had displayed the same annoying traits that their Colonial brethren did, and the Cybrids had been defeated and driven out of the system.

On his return, he'd found numerous colony's, but one had caught his eye. This dense group of planets and moons was splitting into two factions, and the one was ideal for his means. With greater ease than ever, he once again slipped into the humans psyche, and the resulting war had been bittersweet. At first he considered sending them back down the path they had trodden before, but then something caught his attention.

Hidden in the heart of a tiny moon, created by accretion, lay the debris from an ancient race. The remains of a craft from a war that happened before humanity's roots even arrived on Earth.

That lump of technology, while far too advanced for the humans to ever understand, could function as a starting point to develop their own.

Now only a few years later, and it was already being put into place within the humans systems. The time was close when it would become the new standard for the whole system.

But now these bloody, infuriating Colonials were here, messing things up! If they continued to exist, then the mindless sheep that made up the masses of people would have a symbol to rally round, and all the hard work and effort he had invested into humanity would be lost, again.

Iblis was beginning to think that humans were a curse.

Still, there was a chance. This battlecruiser had to die. If – no, when – it was destroyed, with it would go the hope that held the fragmented resistance against his chosen ones rule together. The Plan would have to be accelerated, greater risks of exposure taken, but it was the only way to win.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Stepping through the hatchway, Mal looked in to see Achilles sat at his desk, head resting on his outstretched forefingers, the other fingers interlaced.

"Reynolds... how does it look?"

Mal shrugged. "Big char mark, but nothing serious." He paused. "You're not looking so good, for someone who just routed a whole fleet."

Achilles sighed. "It was not a battle Reynolds, it was a massacre. Our advantage over them is so great it is not even amusing." He leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands back to rest on the table before him. "I could have destroyed every one of those ships long before any of them could have even locked on to this ship. No Reynolds, that was no battle. It was butchery."

Mal frowned. The weariness and self-loathing in Achilles voice was clear. "You gave them every chance Colonel. You didn't blow their ships apart, just crippled them..."

"Apart from that last one, the command ship." Achilles cut in. "We totally obliterated it..."

"Gorram it Achilles, they were going to ram you!" Mal snapped, interrupting the Colonel. "They forced you to destroy them! You did what you had to do to safeguard your ship and crew!"

"I know, Reynolds, I know." Achilles sighed. "That doesn't mean I have to feel comfortable doing so." He took a deep breath and then sat up straighter. "At least that engagement should prove to the Alliance that it hopeless to engage us."

"I wouldn't count on it." Mal warned. "The Alliance ain't big on taking 'No' for an answer. They'll try again." Mal paused. "What about what the operative said? About the _Dominator_?"

"That is one of the many things that worries me." Achilles admitted. "We know I didn't destroy that ship, but if that is what the Alliance is telling the people..." He trailed off.

Mal tried to reassure him. "I don't think the people are listening much to the Alliance anymore. From what we picked up while on Persephone, things are going south."

X-X-X-X-X-X

"I am very disappointed."

The Chief Of Staff and the Director of Espionage both stood in the central area of the Cabinet chamber, facing the dark form of the President. The others of the Cabinet looked, some with pity, others with disgust.

"Your fleet, General, had superiority of numbers in terms of warships, and vastly more fighters than these 'Colonials'. And yet... what do we have to show for it? _Five cruisers _disabled, one frigate wrecked, and one of our advanced 'Judgement' cruisers obliterated. And our fighters and gunships... _seventy percent _losses!" Some of the cabinet glanced at each other; they had never heard the President speak with any kind of emotion before.

"And what, pray, did our mighty fleet manage to achieve? _Negligible_ damage to their sole warship, and _zero _losses to their fighters.

"And you, Director, please explain why despite managing to get aboard the hostile ship unopposed, your Hellion Troopers _failed_!"

Both men stood there, their faces pasty white and hands trembling slightly. Both knew that they each stood on a knife's edge. One wrong word and their necks would fall onto it.

The General was the first to summon his voice. "Mr President... The Colonial ships have exceptional firepower and defence. From what we have gathered so far, it was built to be a heavy warship from the start. The debriefings of the surviving _Dominator _crew are still ongoing, but they have reported that the interior of the ship is just like the exterior, utilitarian. Most of them have commented that the design on the inside was reassuring, implying great strength in the ships hull.

"From those eyewitness accounts, we can also infer that they have a larger technological advantage over us then we first thought. Including, and the pilot of the transport that docked with the ship confirms, some kind of energy field that keeps an atmosphere within a bay."

"That's impossible." The Science Director snorted. "There is no way to create such a field."

"I'm afraid there is more, much worse." The General continued. "Reports from our surviving fighter pilots indicate that their fighters are armed with the same weapon systems as the larger ship, are faster than our missiles, and have an 'energy bubble' that surrounds them, and which protected them from our own fighters attacks."

Everyone fell silent for a few moments, digesting the uncomfortable news. Then the Admiral tabled his last point.

"Sir, there is one other thing. Our military is, to be blunt, not ready to face a foe like this. For the last seven years our forces have been running down and facing pirates, smugglers and thieves. While these groups can be well armed, they don't have any training, barely any coordination. The Colonial have a military force that, if the crew debriefs are to be believed, has been in a state of war with another race that is technologically superior to _them _for over _nine hundred years_!"

Sharp intakes of breath resounded around the chamber. None of those in that chamber could imagine how a nation, even a system wide empire, could withstand being in a state of war for so long. It was close to twelve lifetimes worth!

At last the President spoke. "Very well... You may sit down General." With a audible sigh of relief, the Admiral made his way to his chair before sinking into it. He knew that he'd managed to stave off his own execution... this time.

Attention focused onto the Minister. "So what do you have to say for yourself and your men Minister?"

Perspiration dotted the Ministers forehead. "I... I cannot Mr President. Without the bodies of the Troopers to examine and download their recordings, I have no data to work from."

"What of the recording broadcast by the Colonials, of the initial few seconds of the assault?" The Minister of Truth rasped.

None of the other ministers noted how the Culture Minister paled at the mention of 'that' recording.

"Not much, I'm afraid. Any broadcast by them must be treated as suspect, and so I would not base any conclusions on such."

The President was still for a long moment, before finally speaking. "Very well. Sit down."

Once the Minister had sat down, discretely mopping his brow as he did, the President continued.

"We stand on the edge now. The people are getting restless, the rumours of this ship and its message somehow leaking out. We can not allow it any more. The fleet that engaged the ship is to be destroyed, all records purged."

"But sir..." The Chief of Staff began to protest, but before he could continue twin spines shot out from the rim of the table in front of him and ran him through. Even as he realised what had happened, a powerful cocktail of neurotoxins was pumped into his blood stream. In seconds he was rendered mute as the toxins destroyed his nervous system, before reaching his brain and tearing it apart neuron by neuron. The other Ministers watched in horror as he shook and spasmed, the pain etched in his blackening face, before he slumped over, blood running from his eyes, nose and ears. When the twin spines retracted his body thudded into the table limply.

"I trust no one else will question my orders again?" When there was no reply, the President continued.

"I want the Nightbringer that is following the Colonial ship to close and destroy it. Without that ship to inspire them, the people will back down, at least enough for us to finish the final steps to bring peace and order to the system. True Unity. Now go!"

Wordlessly the others filed out. They were all shocked at the death of the General, but for the Culture Minister it ran deeper.

'_What have we become?' _She thought, thinking not only of the dead General, but also the Alliance crew butchered by their own Troops, of the casual order to destroy all the ships and settlements that had had contact the Colonial vessel.

Then she realised what she to do, and the thought made her stop where she was, while the other ministers continued to head for their quarters.

* * *

**Carter: **That president is acting very like a Gou'ald...

**Teal'c: **Indeed.

**DR: **Okay, from now on the chapters 'should' be locked down, unless anything major comes up during betaing... Next time we learn many distubing facts about the Alliance Troopers, and find out what the Minister has in mind.

For those wondering about how the Alliance was able to create such troopers, I hope this chapter, and the next, ease your concerns...


	16. Disturbing Findings

**DR: **First, let me say a huge 'Sorry' to everyone. I know I'm 60 hours late in my update. My home internet access competely shut down around 6 last Sunday (the 1st) and wasn't fixed until today. And uploading chapters is not the sort of thing I can do at work...

**Apollo: **But you're back now. That's the important thing.

**DR: **Thanks Apollo. Now, this first scene sees the return of another _Firefly_ character. One show only, but he was different... Quick warning: still unbeta'd.

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Chapter 16: Disturbing Findings

Commander Harken stared out of the bridge window, looking over the wrecks before his ship, his insides churning. On the one hand, the sight of wrecked Alliance ships made him burn to hunt down and destroy those responsible. But tempering that was the knowledge that all this damage had been done by _one ship_,which had suffered almost no damage in return. That thought scared him.

He sighed in frustration. Fighting Reavers was so much easier. Ever since his own, first hand encounter with a person who, having watched the Reavers butcher his fellow crew, had started to become one himself, Harken had been pursuing them with a vengeance. He'd requested a number of support ships to assist in the hunting and elimination of the Reaver threat, though he'd only gotten two 'Lancer' frigates. Still, one of the Captains he had known during the Academy, so it wasn't all bad.

His small but effective force had destroyed a number of raiding parties over the last year and a half, though the knowledge of the last year of how they came to be weighed heavily on his mind. High Command had denounced the broadcast, but he could not rid the sorrowful, repentant look on that nameless woman's face... just before she was torn apart by the Reavers she'd inadvertently created.

They had just left dock after resupplying when a call went out for any ship in range to assist. Diverting, they had come across the drifting hulks. Most of the crews were still alive, but their ships were powerless. Now all the still active ships were full of rescued crewmen, and there were still more to come. The surviving Lancer had still had power, so it was heading for Persephone for repairs.

"Commander? I have the logs you wanted."

He turned to regard Captain Fairchild, his close friend from the Academy. Tall and athletic, she had the looks to have been a Companion. However there was also a fiercely tactical brain under her dark blond hair, and she'd been one of the bright stars in classes. Harken had to admit, even to just himself, that he had had a crush on her back then. Seeing her again now, when they had both matured, had only rekindled those feelings.

Due to her superb ship handling she had managed to slide her narrow ship between two of the hulks, much closer than the cruisers dared go. It had greatly reduced the time needed to rescue the trapped crews.

He took the disks she held out to him. "How bad was it?" He asked.

She shivered. "Whatever they used on that Storm sliced right through the armour like it was tin foil. They then burned out the heart of her power relay station, crippling her without causing a reactor breach." She shivered again. "I dread to think of what they could do if they were out to kill our ships."

Harken nodded, having reached the same conclusion. These 'Colonials' had fired to disable, not destroy. Weapons and engines were taken out with incredible precision, but crew compartments were left unharmed. Only when they had no choice had they fully destroyed a ship.

He snorted internally. He had never supported the Judgement class, and the whole idea of the Operatives had been one that never sat well with him. For Harken, there always had to be accountability. The Operatives, at all levels, were loose cannons, killing on a whim. Unrestrained, uncontrolled...

"Sir, the _Ertanax _is hailing us." His comms officer broke into his train of thought. Sharing a look of concern with Captain Fairchild, Harken strode to the screens reserved for inter-fleet communications.

"_Commander, we're just received a communiqué. It has Cabinet Level authorisation. I'm forwarding the contents to you now."_

The screen blanked, before lines of text formed.

**[YOU ARE IN DANGER. ABANDON ALL SHIPS AND FLEE AREA. ALL SHIPS THAT HAVE HAD CONTACT WITH COLONIALS WILL BE DESTROYED. HURRY.]**

They stared at the words for a long moment, then the officer yelled out.

"Sir, we've getting a message from Frigate 731. They're under attack!"

The screen resolved into the face of the captain that commanded the damaged frigate... the one that had left for Persephone. Behind him smoke filled the bridge, and there was static that pulsed in time with shaking.

"_...unknown craft! Not Colonial! Tearing us apart! Looks like a Judgemen..." _The screen broke into static, but not before a flash of blood red light.

"Battle stations!" Harken yelled as he stood up. Captain Fairchild paused at the hatchway, looking back at him. He nodded sombrely at her, acknowledging what she was thinking; their chances of survival were slim, at best.

"_Commander, we're sending all rescued and non-essential crews to you." _The commander of the _Ertanax _spoke in a resigned tone. _"If that ship was sent by the Cabinet, then they won't know you came. Get the crews away; we'll buy you time to escape."_ Already through the window Harken could see shuttles, gunships and transports leaving the other two cruisers.

"No. We stand together." Harken countered.

The other commander sighed. _"If you leave now, you have a chance to escape. If you stay, you doom yourself and your crew. Even if we survive this battle, more will come. Better that they think they got everyone, then present them with more targets."_

Reluctantly, Harken nodded in assent.

"Helm, plot a course. Full emergency power."

The next couple of minutes were anxious for his crew, as they powered their ship away from the fight that they knew was about to happen. Around the large cruiser were dozens of smaller craft, all fill with the crews that had been rescued. There was no time to get the others. Their only chance now was to be far enough away that whatever ship it was that was going to attack would not notice them. A tenuous data link kept then in touch with the other cruisers.

"_Still no sign of hostile... Nothing on radar... maybe it's not as fast as we... gos se! Something just obliterated the frigate hulk... moving forwards, still nothing on radar! Damn, can't see it! Gorram it, it just ripped another hulk open... wait, see that? All batteries, fire for effect! Saturation pattern! There! Run-tse duh fwotzoo, what is it? It looks like a Judgement, but it's... _altered_. It's just taken out the _Principle _with a beam weapon! Split her open with ease! ... Plasma weapons, fire! ... Damn it, it's turning towards us now...All weapons fire at will... Taking hits all over, hull breached... Avenge us!..."_

The transmission faded into static.

X-X-X-X-X-X

The crew moved respectively aside as he strode down the passages, before moving with their own tasks. There was little formality within the Colonial Fleet, but paying respect to one's superiors was one of the main points.

Although, they might have moved aside due to his dark expression.

Achilles was quite simply hacked off with the Alliance. Their disregard for life in general rubbed his Colonial upbringing the wrong way, and their arrogance echoed the Cylons. And it was clear that they didn't play by any sort of rules.

He had just finished inspecting the damage done to his ship by the Alliance boarding party. They cut their way through two separate hatches and torn off the cover to the ventilation. Then, when they had been defeated, the last trooper had detonated his explosives within the ductwork itself. Fortunately the damage was minor, but it could not be fully put right until they returned to the Colonial station. They'd have to partly disassemble Alpha Flight Pod to reach the damaged areas.

What really annoyed him though was the Alliance's disregard for decency and honour, values drummed into all Colonials from infancy, and only reinforced during warrior training. In the past year Achilles had read many of the ancient Earth records that Sire Masters had preserved. He'd seen in many of the Knightly Orders and in the ancient Japanese Samurai most of the ideals that Colonial Warriors aspired to.

He'd also read about the horrors that those same groups had done for their causes. The Samurai were honourable to each other or an equal foe in battle, but to anyone below them or a defeated foe they were merciless and cruel. And the Knightly Orders had their dark sides as well.

On reflection, it wasn't so surprising that the Alliance were so twisted and two faced. Earth's history was filled with cruelty and horror.

Right now he was on his way to the Life Centre. Dr Wulfran had called him from Alpha Bay: he and Dr Tam had completed their autopsy of one of the Alliance Troopers.

He stopped off in the recovery wards on the way, to speak with the wounded men. They had been lucky during the attack, only seven dead: five of the crewmen in the bay who had been watching the prisoners, plus two of the Marines. The other marines were mostly here, recovering from the battering they had taken during the fighting. Mostly broken bones and the like, their armour having done its job and absorbed the bulk of the blows. The Sergeant who had been run through was the worst off, but Achilles was assured that the man would be up and about in a few days.

From each and every one of them, Achilles sensed that they were more than eager to get back into action with the Alliance, and teach them the error of their ways with extreme prejudice.

Steeling himself, Achilles turned and headed deeper into the Life Centre, towards an area that was rarely used.

He shivered as he stepped into the ships morgue. It was a small space, as Colonial tradition was for those who died on their ships – when they bodies could be recovered – to be cast adrift in their caskets into space. Some did ask that they be returned to their planet of birth for burial, but most were content that they would drift amongst the stars.

As such, the morgue was rarely required to hold many bodies, but now it was filled almost to over flowing. Achilles was reluctant to cast their own dead adrift in this system, at least until the Alliance had fallen. And then there were the Alliance assault troops.

Steeling himself, he stepped over to where the doctors stood, next to one of the two examination tables. Both were in use, a shroud covered body on each. With his knowledge of the local technology, even if it was a year out of date, Simon Tam had assisted with the examinations. He'd also helped in the care of the wounded after the surprise assault.

"So... what have you two found?" He asked slowly.

The doctors looked at each other. "Well, their human, for the most part." Doctor Wulfran began, while besides him Simon folded down the sheet to expose the troopers face.

It was pale and emancipated, with sunken features and no hair. Against the pale skin surgical scars stood out like livid red lines. Simon laid the sheet back down just below the trooper's collarbone, for which Achilles was grateful. The end of the cut they'd made in the chest just poked out from under the edge, and Achilles had no desire to see anybodies internal organs.

"This man has been extensively altered, using both surgery and drugs." Using a red stained gloved hand, he traced the healed scars on the man's deathly pale neck. "They surgically inserted overlapping steel bands just under the skin in the neck, covering this weak spot." Achilles frowned then looked closer. Sure enough, he could see signs of a rigid, overlapping pattern under the skin.

"The plates are held in place by some kind of tissue that isn't like anything we've seen before." Wulfran continued. "Whatever it is, it protects the metal from the man's body, and vice-versa. We found more of the material throughout his body, but it was mostly concentrated on the augmentations."

Simon tapped the man's bald head. "They removed most of his cranium, replacing it with metal. This man can take a bullet to the head and not die." He grimaced. "They also operated on his brain, altering the structure, removing some sections, the ones that are the focuses for feelings like compassion, mercy and the like." Achilles understood Simons distaste for this. His own sister had been subjected to similar treatment.

"There is also some computer systems installed into the space created." Wulfran picked up. "Including a tap on his optic nerve that leads to what we think is a recorder." He used his fingers to spread a seam on the man's skin, revealing a narrow slot and a small button. Reaching in with his other hand, he tapped the button, and small square card slid out of the slot. "We think these were built in so they could review the action, seeing whatever the trooper saw." He said plucking the card out.

Simon, now recovered, moved down and lifted one of the man's arms. Plug sockets adored the outer forearm. "These are directly linked to his nervous system. He could control whatever was inserted with his mind. His fingernails..." Simon pulled one finger free of the others "...have been induced to grow extremely long and thickly, making them good improvised claws.

"If you look here..." Simon rotated the arm so that the inside was facing up. He tapped at the inside of the elbow joint, were many puncture marks, some old looking, others recent, were clustered. "...regular injections, of who knows what."

Wulfran spoke up again. "All the major limb bones have been replaced with metal replacements, and all the nerves are not relays of neurons, but single neurons running from the brain to the point of action. We think this is why they could move so fast. Their reactions are at least twice as fast as normal."

"How?" Achilles asked carefully.

"Given the difficulty in replacing those nerves, we reckon this is the result of genetic alteration, rather than surgery. A combination of genetics and drugs also increased the muscles density, giving them their impressive strength."

Simon now took over. "The chest and abdomen have had extensive alteration. The heart and lungs have been replaced surgically with superior vat grown organs. I recognised the base structure, only these are way more advanced than the ones I studied two years ago. In contrast, the digestive system has been greatly simplified. This man could not survive on regular food, only on a cocktail of fluids and nutrients. The reproductive organs have been moved inside the body." He shrugged. "I guess they figured that the testosterone was worth keeping those parts."

"We had some trouble getting in..." Wulfran put in. "...since the ribs have grown together into a solid sheet. Also a flexible weave of ballistic resistant fibres was implanted into the stomach lining. Similar plates were also added to the thighs."

"So in summary, we have armoured plated, surgically altered, genetically engineered super soldiers." Achilles asked rhetorically.

Doctor Wulfran look gloomy. "I'm afraid it gets worse." At Achilles look, he gestured to the square panels on the wall behind him, the covers to the freezers. "We have twenty-three 'bodies' here, not including the live one we having in the secured medical bay, and fifteen nearly identical individuals."

Achilles took a half second to make sure that he had heard the doctor correctly. At his look, Wulfran explained.

"They're nearly identical twins, only grown separately. If I had to make a guess, I'd reckon their using a number of different sources of DNA, unfertilised eggs harvested from young women, and then cross breeding the results."

"How did you infer all that?" Simon asked, curious.

Wulfran looked pained. "Because I found your sisters DNA in one of the troopers."

* * *

**Leena: **WHAT!?!

**Sheba: **Those frakkers!

**Hermione: **(is shocked speechless)

**DR: **Now things get personal... I'll update in a couple of days, as this coming weekend I'm going to be away...


	17. New Deals & Old Friends

**DR: **Back again, with another chapter for all you lucky people. To contrast with the last couple, this is a more 'light hearted' chapter. A little Vega/Mir fluff, plus sne Kaylee centric...

**Zeke: **Enough already! On with the story!

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Chapter 17: New Deals & Old Friends

Mal sighed as the cattle trundled out of his ship. The hold wasn't as bad as before, since the trip had been a lot shorter, and Mal had had thick plastic sheeting laid down beforehand. Still, he'd be glad to be rid of the cattle... and their droppings.

As he looked out to the temporary corral he caught sight of River tightening some rope with harsh movements. So she was still angry and upset. Mal didn't blame her one bit.

When Simon had returned from assisting Doctor Wulfran, he'd been white as a sheet and preoccupied. Kaylee had called him on it first, but he refused to talk about it to anyone but River.

She'd left the small cabin a few minutes later, long strings of Chinese curses leaving her lips as she yanked a suit from the locker before marching out the hatch. Mal had been going to stop her, but the black look on her face stopped him. She looked ready to kill somebody.

Everyone else had gathered together in the dining area to hear the story. Simon had eventually explained how he'd found out that the Alliance had harvested his sister ovaries, and were using her eggs and DNA in their twisted experiments. How one of the soldiers who had been part of the assault on _Thunderchild _had, in effect, been her son. Who knew how many others were out there.

Doctor Wulfran wanted her to visit his bay to determine just how much had been harvested, but so far she hadn't gone. She was too emotional for the time being. When she'd returned from wherever she'd been, she'd been in the suit, head bowed within the helmet. When Simon had removed it, her face had been revealed to be tear-stained. When she spoke, her voice had been croaky. Kaylee had all but dragged her to the bunk she had with Simon, and together they had comforted her.

She had emerged in time for their descent to the surface, but she'd still been withdrawn and sullen. Fortunately, she'd kept away from the cattle, for which Mal was grateful. He hated to seem cold, but he had to think of the job first, then his crew.

Pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind, Mal strode down the ramp and towards the corral... and the man that stood nearby, looking over the herd.

Unlike the last time, this fella was much more reputable. Smarter clothes under the grim, clean jaw, and an honest air.

"Morning. Would you be Mr Callowfield?"

"That's right captain." Callowfield turned to face him, a happy expression on his face. "I see you've got Sir Harrow's beef."

"Honestly paid for." Mal countered. _'Let the games begin...'_ He thought.

For the next few minutes the two of them bartered back and forth, both men finding the experience enjoyable this time. Indeed, they even continued to barter beyond the point they would normally have ended it.

Finally though, they had to warp it up. "Well, I think we have deal Mr Callowfield." Mal held out his hand.

"I do believe you're right Captain Reynolds." They shook, then watched as Callowfield's men began to herd the cattle away.

He was just handing Mal the cash, when Callowfield's eyes went over his shoulder. He grinned. "You weren't kidding about 'beautiful women..." he trailed off, eyes widening.

Mal tensed as he looked over his shoulder, but all there was were Inara and Kaylee walking back, baskets in their hands. The two of them had gone into town to pick up a few items.

Mal looked back at Callowfield, who was still looking at the women, in amazement Mal realised, not fear. "Kaylee?"

Kaylee looked up. Her eyes widened, then she smiled warmly. "Mr Callowfield!"

Mal watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion as she stepped over to give him a one armed hug. "I take it you know each other?"

Kaylee smiled up at him. "Mr Callowfields farm is right next to my ma's folks. I used to go over all the time, till I started helping my dad."

"Yes, and how you have grown." Callowfield made a show of looking her up and down. "I haven't seen you since you're a bouncing nine year old, now look at you!" Kaylee blushed at the praise, brushing some hair from her face. The motion caused light to glimmer off the ring on her finger.

"Married too? Well, I hope however he is, he takes good care of you."

Kaylee grinned, a saucy gleam in her eye. "Oh, he _does_." A far away look entered her eyes, and her smile faded a little.

Mal knew what she was thinking. "Why don't you help the others pack away the corral mei mei, then we'll all drop in on your folks."

The smile she turned on him was almost blindingly bright, and she trapped him in a hug that was crushing, even with just one arm. Over her head, Mal saw Inara smiling at him proudly.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Miranda smiled with contentment as she looked over the dry scrubland before her. The ball on Persephone had been a wonderful experience – well, until Atherton Wing butted in – but this was where she belonged. In her zoid's cockpit.

"Race you to the top of that ridge line!" Vega's call came across loud and clear. "We won't use the boosters to make it fair."

"Okay, on three. One... two three!" Miranda raced through the last two words, taking Vega by surprise and racing out ahead.

"Oh you little... " Vega's tone was playful however as the Fury broke into a run. Over the open channel she could hear the Fury roaring with laughter.

Chuckling herself, Miranda focused on the ground ahead. With this moon's sparse population, Achilles had decided it was safe to let the zoids land and stretch their legs. They had been directed to the wilderness areas, places untouched by the settlers. Only the odd prospector came out here.

Mal and his crew were wrapping up business before heading over to where Kaylee grew up, which happened to be the closest farm. Mir and Vega might join them later, depending on how Mal figured Kaylee's family would react to the two zoids.

Achilles had also allowed limited shore leave for his crew, and had sent a team down to open a dialogue with the local people. _Thunderchild_ herself was sat in orbit above the planet, though not directly over the town. He didn't want to scare them.

Behind her, Vega smiled as he watched the Blade Raptors motions. It was young in zoid terms, having only been fully grown in it previous state for three years. For creatures that lived hundreds of years – or in the case of a select few, _thousands_ – five years was little more than an eye blink.

None the less, the zoid moved with a fluid grace that was second only to more advanced zoids. The smaller forelimbs were tucked in close, while the tail was held out straight to balance the body. The head was thrust out, flattening the 'S' curve of the neck.

Through the controls, Vega could feel the Fury's own contentment. Yes, the zoid was a thrill seeker, but it had mellowed a bit over the last year, and after the long sleeps required for transit in the _Thunderchild_'s hold, the Fury was happy to just _do_ something.

They reached the ridge, Miranda barely ahead. The Blade Raptor leapt upwards, before snaring a hold using its claws. Nimbly it began to scale the rock face, claws meant to slice through thick armour digging deep into the soft rock.

The Fury, bigger and heavier, with the bulk of its strength in its hind legs and neck, had to attack the cliff differently. Spotting an area where the cliff had broken down into a pile of large boulders over a long slope, the Tyrannosaurus shaped zoid used the power of its massive legs to climb up, foot claws digging deep into the loose stuff on top before latching onto the larger, firmly placed boulders.

Pushing upwards, the Fury reached the flatter region above, but it was well down the cliff face from the Rev Raptor, which climbing the rock face straight up towards the goal. With a roar of playful challenge, The Fury ran for the top.

In a cloud of dust, the two zoids reached the target spot at the same moment, practically on top of each other. The two looked at each, snout to snout.

"Well, I guess we'll have to declare this a tie."

Miranda smirked. "Maybe. So what now?"

Vega smiled, triggering the Fury's canopy. Sensing his pilots wishes, the Fury ducked down to allow him to safely get out. Miranda followed suit, and was soon standing on the warm rocks by him. She was surprised to see him holding a small hamper.

"How about a picnic?" He asked, holding the hamper. "I, er..., borrowed a few items from the ship's galley."

"Borrowed." Miranda looked at him in amusement, an eyebrow raised slightly.

"Well... the chefs did cook what needed it before hand." Vega smiled as he set the hamper down atop a small rock.

There was chicken meat, done with a Colonial recipe meant for a similar creature, some hydroponically grown fruit, some Earth Origin bread – a big hit with the Colonials – and a modest sized bottle of liquid. Miranda's eyes widened at the sight of the label.

"Colonial Ambroisa?"

Vega nodded as he removed some foil wrapped kebab like objects before reaching in for the two plates inside. "When I mentioned that you'd be with me, the chef just slid that in and winked."

Miranda giggled. "You think he's been plotting with Starbuck?" Vega caught her reference to how the daredevil warrior had helped Apollo and Sheba get together.

Vega smiled as he set at removing the cork. "Cheers."

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Father! There's a ship landing in the paddock, right next to your own!"

Gregory Lee Frye frowned as he looked at his son who had just come running in through the door. Why on Earth would a ship come here, much less to this moon? There was barely anything worth anything here. He was about to press his son, wondering if he had fallen asleep, when he heard it too; the sound of a ships engines.

He shared a concerned glance with his wife, before stepping over to the sideboard and lifting down the old shotgun he kept there. The Alliance had not bothered him in years, so why come back now? He knew that they kept tabs on him in the past, due to his role in the War as an Independent fighter pilot.

But that was a long time ago. Hell, he'd not even got off the ground in the last two years, let alone into space. First couple years after the war he'd been running a successful shuttle trip around the local planets and moons for those willing to pay. It wasn't combat flying, but it sated his thirst for the freedom that only flying could give. But as the Alliance cracked down on small time operators in favour of large, government run carriers, he'd been slowly forced out of business. Now his ship sat rusting in the field, while he turned his hands to farming the land alongside his wife and son. Kaylee had been right to leave when she did; her mind was wasted on farm machinery, and only a couple of weeks after she left Gregory had to shut down his shuttle service

Stepping outside, he looked up into the sky, searching for the speck that would signal the incoming ship. Hearing footsteps behind him he glanced back to see his son stepping up with the rifle in his hands. Behind him was Gregory's wife along with his son's new bride. He had been disappointed at first when his son had shown a talent for farming, but he had done well with the land, and found himself a good woman.

Turning back to the sky, Gregory's eyes narrowed as he saw the ship swooping down. _'A Firefly? Who in the 'verse still uses those?'_ Even as he watched the old transport slow down to land, a memory prickled at the back of his mind.

'_Kaylee said she'd gotten work on a Firefly…' _He sighed out of reflex when he thought about his beautiful daughter. She had been a real genius when it came to machines. The girl had natural talent with anything mechanical. The letters they had received over the last couple of years had brought smiles to all the family. Just like her, her letters had been filled with sweetness and cheer. No matter what the world was throwing at him, her simple presence cheered him up.

Then the letters stopped, little over a year ago now.

Eyes tight, he walked over to the edge of the paddock as the firefly swooped down and settled besides the rusted bulk of his old long range shuttlecraft. Over the last couple of years he and his family had been forced to cannibalise it for parts to keep the farm equipment going.

The transport landed expertly, and Gregory slowly approached the front hatch. He hung back in case they used the ramp…

With a clunk and a whine the ramp began to lower down, and he tightened his grip on the shotgun a little.

Faces began to appear over the rim, and he looked over each one as they appeared. There was a lean faced large nosed man, a regal and sophisticated woman, a thuggish looking one…

His eye landed on the one face then, and he froze. Meanwhile the person he was looking at grinned brightly.

"Daddy!" Kaylee called before running forward, across the still lowering ramp. When she jumped towards him, Gregory had just enough presence of mind to drop his gun to catch her.

Her landing in his arms was almost enough to knock him over, but his mind unconsciously recalled how she used to do this in her youth, and how to prevent them both falling on the ground. As such he spun her around in his arms, a broad smile spreading across his face.

"Kaylee!" He cried, hugging her even tighter. His whole day brightened considerably now that she was back. He laid a fatherly kiss on her cheek before allowing her to drop back down onto her feet. He gazed down into her warm eyes. "I never thought I'd see you again…"

Kaylee smiled. "Oh daddy…" She looked to his side, and her smile brightened once more. "Sam!"

Samuel rushed over, grinning widely. "Hey little sis'!" Gregory released her in time to allow the siblings to embrace. Kaylee's laughter filled the air as the rest of the ships crew stepped down at a more sedate pace.

"Kaylee!" The air was filled with joy as Gregory's wife came running up, her silvered hair flying behind her. Before Sam could let go she had embraced both him and Kaylee in a tight hug, clutching her children to her in a family hug. "Oh I've been worried sick about you, Miss Frye! No letters for over a year! Have you been alright? Have you been eating properly…"

"I'm fine mum." Kaylee's answer was partly muffled by her mother's body.

Off to the side, _Serenity_'s crew watched a little misty eyed at the Lee Frye reunion. Foremost of them Mal had a slight smile on his face as he looked over the family. Kaylee clearly took after her mother in terms of looks, though her father's hair, while greying, was a clear match for her own. Her brother was more like their father, with his strong jaw and wiry frame. The lean musculature showed that he worked hard.

Besides him he noticed Simon fidget. Mal shook his head slightly.

Gregory turned now to look at the crew. Almost instinctively his eyes came to rest on the man he reckoned was the captain. He noted that he was dressed in a tattered and worm Independents uniform. He held out his hand. "Welcome. I'm Gregory Lee Frye."

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds." Mal stepped forwards and shook his hand. "Your daughters a real genius. You should be proud."

"That I am." Gregory replied as Kaylee stepped back to join them, her mother just a step behind. Sam had stepped back to bring his wife into the family gathering.

Kaylee looked up at her father, a mixture of joy and… was that apprehension on her face? "Daddy, there's some people I want you to meet." She leaned forwards and took hold of Simon's wrist before pulling him to her side. Wrapping her left hand in his right, she faced her parents. "Mum, Dad… this is Simon." She paused for a moment. "My husband."

Mrs Frye gasped before clapping her hands to her face, while Sam Lee Frye gaped. Gregory frowned as he looked over Simon. Of decent height, thin faced with a 'cultured' air about him. He was dressed smartly in black pants, white shirt and a waistcoat. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes, but apart from that it was hard to get a read on him.

"When did this happen Kaylee?" He asked, his eyes never leaving Simons face.

"Nine months ago Daddy." Kaylee at least didn't seem phased by his question. "We would have invited you, but we were… cut off, at the time." Her eyes sparkled. "It was beautiful!"

"Uh huh… and who walked you up the aisle young lady, or did you not bother with one?"

"That would be me." Mal stepped forwards. "Kaylee asked me to act in your stead. And I assure you, it was a proper wedding, cake and everything. We captured the whole thing for you."

Gregory grunted, his eyes still on Simon. He watched how the man swallowed, but continued to meet his gaze. That scored points in Gregory's book. At last he addressed him. "Do you love my daughter?"

Simon answered simply but firmly. "Very much sir. I'd give anything to keep her safe."

River smiled broadly. She knew that he'd said the same thing regarding her several times.

Gregory slowly nodded, before looking at Kaylee. "I guess he'll do…"

Kaylee smiled warmly, dragging a smile onto his own face. "There's more daddy." She looked towards the crew, finding and meeting Rivers eyes. A slight nod, and River walked over. In each arm she held a bundle of cloth.

Relieving her of one, Kaylee turned to face her father. "This is George…" She said handing him the bundle, which he realised contained a sleeping infant. Even as he settled the child in his arms, he found that she was holding out the second. "…and this is Nathan. Your grandsons."

Gergory's jaw dropped as he looked down at the two infants sleeping in his arms. His wife had gasped once more, while Sam had gasped "Holy…", but he barely heard them. He found himself staring at the two boys.

"I'm a grandfather…" He whispered.

* * *

**DR:** Still un-beta'd, so be gentle...


	18. Homecoming Queen

**DR: **Another week, another chapter...

**Zeke: **'it's the season to be jolly...'

**All: **KNOCK IT OFF ZEKE!

**Zeke: **(wide eyed) But... it's Christmas!

**DR: **Not quite. And besides, I can't stand carol singing...

* * *

Chapter 18: Homecoming Queen

The gathering grew, until by the evening it was a celebration of the whole extended Jamison, Kaylee's mothers, family. They were celebrating not only Kaylee's return home, but also the news of her own children. The two toddlers were the centre of much attention, at least until early evening, when Vega and Miranda joined them. They had left the Fury on the edge of the farm, but had brought the Blade Raptor in to the edge of the party area. Small for a zoid, it had still dominated the scene. Quickly though Kaylee's family accepted the metal beast and drew in the two young pilots.

There was further excitement a little later when the whine of high performance engines was heard overhead. Colonel Achilles himself had come down to the surface, bringing his personally customised Viper III-B instead of a shuttle. When asked why, his answer was that he 'Felt like taking the fighter-bomber for a spin'.

From where he stood, near the edge of the gathering, Achilles watched everyone enjoy themselves. Wash and Zoe were sitting together; she wrapped in his arms, their son Kyle on her lap. Mal had been dragged into the dancing by Inara, though Achilles noted that he didn't put up that much of a fight. Flitting between the other dancers was River, able to, for the moment, put aside her anger.

Kaylee, with Simon at her side, was in the middle of a gathering of the women, her sons in her arms. Looking between the faces, Achilles could see the linage that had given the young woman her features. She was sat in the centre of the group, raised up on a high chair like a queen.

Vega and Miranda were slightly off to one side, spending some more time together. Achilles smiled to himself. He had known what Vega had planned, even as he had told him that the Zoids were free to roam the surface of the moon. The way they stood together suggested a mental, if not yet physical, intimacy between them.

Speaking of the zoids... Achilles looked over to where the Blade Raptor stood, partly lit by the light of the fires. He'd brought his fighter to rest at the Zoids feet, the firelight reflected in the canopy. He smirked when he raised his eyes to see a dark shadow just behind the Raptor, marked only by two mutely glowing red triangles.

He smiled and talked with those who approached him, but a part of Achilles couldn't fully immerse himself in the celebration. Partly it was simply that Athena wasn't here, and without her it just didn't feel right to him.

There was also the nagging knowledge about the Alliance they had recently acquired.

Gregory Lee Frye stepped over, to stand by him, watching his daughter play with her kids. "Mind if I ask you something?" He said after a moment.

"You may."

"Is it true that you wiped out an Alliance fleet a couple days ago? The news service has been running that headline for the last two days."

Achilles sighed. "Sort of. We were forced to engage a fleet, and during the course of the battle, we _disabled_ most of the ships. We only outright destroyed one craft, and that ship was trying to ram us. The fighters, well..."

Gregory nodded. "I understand. I used to be a fighter pilot myself. Before the 'Alliance' grounded me."

Achilles looked towards him. "I take it from your tone you fought for the Independents?"

Gregory nodded. "Yea..." He paused, then seemed to decide something. "Colonel, there's been a growing undercurrent of concern and resentment for the Government ever since that 'Miranda Broadcast'. The people are beginning to question the government, and your ships arrival has only added fuel to the fire. There's talk amongst the former Independents of a new movement, to break the outer planets away before the Alliance can sink their claws any deeper."

Achilles faced the older man fully. "Tell me more."

X-X-X-X-X-X

The next morning the four ships prepared to depart. The two transport craft assigned for the zoids were the first to lift, Vega riding with the Fury; he was nervous about enclosed spaces, perfectly understandable really, considering his past. Achilles was the next to lift, his Viper rocketing for the heavens. _Serenity _was the last to lift, mainly because they had to almost pry Kaylee out from within her mothers encircling arms. Simon received the usual Fatherly advice and threats concerning harming his little girl, and then they lifted, with a substantial amount of fresh produce.

There was a surprise waiting for them in orbit; pacing alongside _Thunderchild _was a Colonial transport. Mal smiled when he saw the words written on the side of one of the huge containers.

"'Colonial Movers... we move anywhere.'" He chuckled.

The consoles chimed, and when Wash put the transmission up, Achilles smiled at them.

"_Our friend here has just arrived from home on a courier run. We've almost finished unloading. She's brought spare parts, fuel, supplies... and mail. Alpha bay is clear for you to land and collect your share."_

Smiling widely, Wash brought _Serenity_ around to begin the approach.

X-X-X-X-X-X

They gathered in the dining area, sat around the table. All their eyes were on the box that was sat in the middle. They had already loaded all the other small crates containing sundry supplies like food, but this box held personally addressed items. Vega was sat with them, next to Miranda.

As Captain, it fell to Mal to deal out the items within. The first one was a letter addressed to all of them. Unfolding it, Mal began to read it aloud.

"'To Mal and Crew,

'It's been very quiet around here since you guys left. Hope you are staying out of trouble...'" Chuckles rose from around the table as Mal paused. "'...and things are going smoothly. When we heard that Cain was sending a ship with supplies for Achilles, we asked to send these along for you. Figured you'd want some news about things back here.

'First off, we're back into the contests. It got just too boring just sitting around all the time. We're not as active as we had been, but it's enough. The kids are growing quickly, Janet's on her feet now, and Leanne is crawling so quickly Brad jokes that she's a miniature Lightning Saix! There's some of those captures of yours for you to see.

'Naomi's pregnant again! She and Brad are hoping for a son, though everyone else suspects they'll get another girl.

'The biggest news though, is that Stoller and Cassandra are officially a couple now! Though they've been together for a while now... They've finally seen what we saw a while ago. They're taking things slowly for now.

'Apollo and Sheba send their regards. Their daughter is growing well, and is getting along with our children. Looks like they'll be friends for life. Apollo asks that you guys try to keep Starbuck out of trouble, and away from the local women! Cassie seconds that last bit very firmly!

'The zoids miss Fury and the Blade Raptor. Iggy's been morose about them ever since you left! She's becoming a right mother hem for the others. Except Liger Zero. Not sure how to describe their relationship...

'Stay safe, keep flying, and come home soon.

'Love,

'Blitz Team.'

Each of them received small packages containing gifts. Inara smiled when she opened hers to reveal a set of perfume; those used on Zi were much subtler than anything in this system. Wash got another zoid kit; Zoe just shock her head in amusement as he began to inspect the contents right there.

Kaylee however got what everyone else considered the best item. Simon explained that just before they left, he had wandered into a jewellery store in the Ancient City... the same one used by Bit, Brad, Leon and Jamie. He had ended up ordering a necklace for Kaylee, for their first wedding anniversary. Since they had left before it could be finished, He'd asked Masters to pick it up when done. And now it had arrived.

The necklace was a pair of simple fine chains – one silver, the other copper – that came together at the clasp, and looped through a small broach that hung at her throat, in which sat a gem. Simon had originally asked about a Ruby, but the jeweller had none of the required size. All his stock were already cut in larger sizes; breaking one down to fit would lose him a lot. But he had some slivers of Zoid Magnite, fragments too small for industrial or zoidian use, on which his son had been experimenting.

Now a finely polished nearly flat disc of the precious crystal sat in Kaylee's broach. Unlike regular Zoid Magnite, this sliver was red instead of blue. A note with it stated that the crystal structure, and the impurities within, had been altered with harmonic microwaves. Once Simon had closed the clasp, she had twisted in his lap to drag him into an intensive kiss. Then, grinning widely, she'd all but dragged him to their bunk.

Mal got several new sets of pants, prompting some jokes about his older ones. Mal glared, but couldn't refute that his formal pants were getting too tight. Nobody wanted to know what the Blitz had sent Jayne, but judging from the look on his face, he wasn't amused.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Gregory Lee-Frye smiled happily as he headed into town. The visit by Kaylee and her friends – and family – had done more than brighten his days. There was spring in everybody's steps now. While he would never be totally comfortable on the ground, Greg was able to live with it better.

He glanced over at his wife sat besides him, as she smiled happily. It had been a long time since she had been able to accompany him on a run to town. Over the last couple of years, he'd had to use the two horses that the farm owned. Bred for staying power rather than speed, they could work tirelessly all day, but they were not able to haul a heavy load at speed. The trip to town had been a four day round trip, not including the time spent trading wares and seeking the supplies they needed from time to time.

This time however, they were set to not only do the whole trip in two days, but also make more money. _'And all thanks to this.'_ He thought, patting the panel of the Colonial Sled that they had graciously left him in trade for some fresh foodstuffs, as well as some up to date local knowledge. The tracked vehicle reminded him of old pickup trucks, only with a open cab, smooth running tank tracks and a quiet engine. The load area was packed full of produce, as was the cart that he normally used, hooked onto the rear. They had even set up a solar energy collector and converter to keep the Sled running for decades, and tucked away within the driving away was a full manual, just in case he needed to do a spot of maintenance.

Looking ahead, he saw a few ships of smoke drifting upwards. _'Must be the aftermath of that celebration...'_ he thought. The previous night, the second after _Serenity _had left, there had been dull rumbles and a green glow coming from the direction of the town. Greg put it down to some obscure Chinese holiday; the town had a very large Chinese population, and they were always setting off fireworks at the slightest invitation.

As they got closer, the smoke showed no signs of dissipating. There was more now, and Greg began to feel worry. A glance to his left revealed that his wife too was growing concerned.

As they made the penultimate turn, Greg cursed. The hills that they had to go round had hidden from sight a number of billowing smoke plumes, the thin, broken whips of which they had seen before.

Taking one hand off the controls, Greg reached down besides him and brought the shotgun he'd placed there up onto his lap. His wife had also armed herself with the old service pistol she had been issued with. While she had never fired it in anger, she had received basic training before becoming a medic during the war.

They were expecting to find the town damaged, the signs of a Reaver attack, but what they saw as they crested the hill shocked them to the core.

The town was _gone._ Gaping craters with glass smooth surfaces covered the ground. A deep trench had been dug that went all around the towns' perimeter, and slashed across it in several points. There was nothing standing, just thin streams of smoke rising from the still glowing hot ground. The residue heat had been a slap in the face as they arrived. The ground outside the trench ring was charred and blackened; bushes and trees now just charcoal limbs.

The only man made structure that still stood in fact was a chunk of the school, which had been a little ways outside the town itself. The trench ran right through the front half, while the rear half was gutted by flames.

As they looked out over the charred plain, Greg felt his wife's hand crawl to and grip his own.


	19. Scent of Rebellion

**DR: **Here's a Christmas update for all of you... though it ain't a 'Light' and 'Fluffy' chapter. It's actually quite dark...

**River: **(*glaring at DR*)

**DR: **Look River, I've said sorry at least a dozen times now. I will fix things... eventually.

**River: **(*continues to glare*)

**DR: ***sighs* Fine. Anyway, as I said, this is a moderately 'Dark' chapter. And there are several nods to a famous book turned rock opera/musical. See if you can spot them all...

* * *

Chapter 19: Scent of Rebellion

The destruction of the town, with apparently no survivors, was the only thing people were talking about when _Serenity _docked with the skyplex that orbited one of the three gas giants in the system, only two days travel away. _Thunderchild _eased in close, slowly so as not to panic everyone too much. Achilles had directed the ships here on information Gregory Lee-Frye had told him regarding a resurgent Independent Faction.

The station itself was used as a relay point for the mines that dug deep beneath the ice locked surface of the moon for metals. In the early years it had bustled as prospectors used it as a jump off point, before coming back to try and stake a claim or be paid vast amounts of money for the location of their strikes. More often then not they came back empty handed and frostbitten, but some had struck it lucky.

Now though the primary mines were run by Blue Sun, who had set up landing pads on the surface, cutting out the need for the skyplex as the transfer point. The prospectors were also gone, as Blue Sun now held a monopoly on the mining rights of the small moon. The station would have been dismantled, if it had not managed to become a trade point.

Ships from the other moons often came here to trade with those from nearby planets. Passing freighters and liners sometimes docked to restock supplies.

The main users of the skyplex now though were the criminal underclass's, the underground rebels, and those wanting to remain beyond the reach of the law.

Mal walked through the dirty passageways, watching everyone he passed. Behind him Zoe and Jayne followed, both as keenly alert as he was.

Mal paused long enough to watch a news report about the destroyed town. He snorted to himself at the end when the reporter said there were no survivors of the sudden and unexpected meteor shower. While the second bit _could _be true, the bit about there being no survivors _was _an outright lie, since there were. Gregory and his wife had found a little over a dozen children, ranging between nine and twelve, who had been in the school when the disaster struck. After the first hit in town, the music teacher had directed them out and away from town, into the hills nearby. He'd been there with them rehearsing a forth-coming school play. Gregory had found them and the teacher hiding in a hallow in the hills close by. The children had been tired, tearful and dirty, but otherwise unharmed. The teacher however had suffered fatal burns to his back, and had been failing when the Lee-Frye's arrived. He'd managed to hold out until Mrs Lee Frye had led the children away, but then he'd died, speaking deliriously of green flashes raining from the sky.

As he weaved his way between stalls of barely legal good, Mal counted himself lucky that he'd managed to persuade the others to remain on the ship. The only one allowed off was Ghost, and that was because he could not only go invisible, but he could scare the bejezzus out of any of these lowlifes.

Finally he reached the tiny stall that Gregory had told Achilles about. He'd heard about it from an old fighter pilot friend who'd turned sometime smuggler, sometime escort for hire after the war. Unable or unwilling to settle down, he'd wandered the system, and as such had remained in contact with a number of other former independents. This stall was apparently run by one such former soldier.

Moving inside, Mal found a bench with a number of worthless nik-naks, some faded pictures hung on the wall, and a man slouched in his chair, apparently asleep. Looking around, Mal picked one of the various battered models that rested on the table.

"You'd better be thinking of buying that mister. Otherwise, set it down nice and slow." The voice came from underneath the tatty, wide rimmed hat the man wore low on his head.

Mal smiled ever so slightly as he looked the model over. "Just like I remember, though I have to admit I was away more partial to the 36GAF."

The man's head raised a bit. "Why's that mister? The gaf was an atmo slug, not a real fighter." His voice however was not threatening as it had before, but interested.

"Maybe to you flyboys, but to us cowboys they were our angels."

The man's head tipped back now, and Mal was shocked to realise that he knew the face. Back shortly before the infamous Battle of Serenity Valley, Mal's squad had been sent into a region of no man's land to extract a half dozen pilots who had ejected from stricken fighters. This man had been one of them. The most Mal could recall about him was the pale, white face that shivered even while unconscious, and the blood soaked wrappings around the right arm.

Now the man's face was a little less pale, with a short moustache of greying hair. Mal tried to fight the impulse, but he couldn't help but glance at the man's right arm. The sleeve was full, but Mal noted that he had his left hand placed over the right, and that there was some empty space there.

The former pilot looked him over slowly. "Malcolm Reynolds. Wondered when you'd resurface, after the amount of interest the Alliance has shown in you. From what we've heard, you've been a right bit of trouble for them for a while now."

"Trouble came to me. I just ran with it." Mal answered, setting the model back down.

"Ain't that the truth." The pilot smirked. "Nathaniel Peters. Now, what's a humble former pilot turned peddler do for you?" He waved towards a chair that sat opposite him with his left hand. As he did, his right was exposed to be a mechanical replacement, with a grasping tong, the tip of a narrow blade, and a short tube sticking out. From the size of it, Mal guessed it might be the barrel of a gun.

Nathaniel followed Mal's gaze. "Yea, it's a gun. Lost nearly the whole arm after punching out in that gorram mess of the Hera Counter Push. Living as I do in dangerous places like this, I figured I needed the edge, though I pray everyday that I won't need to use it." He brought a small silver cross on a chain up from under his shirt and pressed it against his forehead for a moment.

Mal shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with his open display of religion... the same religion that Mal had once believed, before his faith had been shattered in Serenity Valley. Along with many other things.

Clearing his throat, he cut to the chase. "I've heard talk about a new Independence Movement. Care to share?"

Nathaniel grinned. "It ain't just talk anymore Reynolds. We've been around since the War, but after that 'Miranda Broadcast', we've had some real ammo to go after those purple-bellied bastards with. The Alliance have never been able to control Hera completely, and the people are starting to ignore the Feds completely. So far we've not started fights, but we expect that we will, soon. Hell, if a fight looked in the offing, I'd haul ass over there and join up again."

"Nathaniel, you promised me you had quit." A woman's voice emerged from deeper into the alcove that contained Nathaniel's stall. The women who stepped out from behind a drape was a little younger, with long but straggly blond hair and a small frame. She looked at Nathaniel longingly.

"Flying's in my blood Beth." He turned to look at her. "Just like yours calls out to heal. Even them." He waved his hand to encompass the criminals and scum that filled the Skyplex outside the booth.

Mal decided to try and get things back on track. "You sure about that, fighting?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Definitely. The Alliance is getting desperate. Their lies carry less and less weight each day, and the people on both The Rim and the Mid Worlds are seeing things going to hell through mismanagement and ignorance by Alliance stooges. Pretty soon the people are going to start demanding local powers to deal with the problems, and the Alliance ain't going to give it to them. After that, things will escalate."

"You mean Alliance troops firing on civilians." Mal stated.

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "I suspect so."

Mal shook his head. "You really think you can win this time? Last time we got hammered, and look where we are now."

Nathaniel smiled sadly. "You can't kill a dream Mal, no matter what the stuck up Alliance thinks. There are more of us than before, and we have greater support than last time. This time, The Alliance can't send everything they've got at us, since they had to keep everywhere else under control. They move troops away from any planet, and the people will rise up." Nathaniel smiled triumphantly. He then snorted.

"Course, there are some within us prone to flights of fancy. A really good one I heard the other day tells of some kind of super ship, able to take out the whole Alliance single handily. And the crazy part is, it's crewed by _Aliens._" He laughed.

Mal chuckled with him, but not at the same thing. "Well, I can tell you that there are only three 'aliens' on that ship. Unless you count people born in distant star systems as aliens too."

Nathaniel looked at Mal liked he'd grown a second head. "Don't tell me you buy that silly tale! A _single_ ship capable of taking out an entire _fleet _of ships? That's ridiculous! Impossible, more like!"

Mal was the one smiling now. "Had anyone told that story eighteen months ago, I'd be reacting just like you. But after what I've seen..."

Beth stepped up to stand next to her husband. "What are you hiding Mr Reynolds?" She asked slowly.

Mal smirked. "I think it's time you saw the impossible."

X-X-X-X-X-X

With a gentle grace, Wash eased _Serenity_ about until they hung in space, the ships nose pointed just off the skyplex, towards empty space. The bulk of the skyplex hung off to the right, with the gas giant as a backdrop.

"Al'right Reynolds, what are we supposed to be seeing?" Nathaniel asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Mal just smiled. He'd checked the screens, and knew everything was perfectly set. He looked up out windows, and saw the tip of _Thunderchild_'s prow. "That." He said, pointing.

"What are y..." Nathaniel trailed off as the Colonial ship came around from behind the Skyplex. His eyes widened in time with the increasing size of the arrowhead prow of the battlecruiser. Then as the lean neck slid past the leading end of the landing bay came into view... along with the dark mouths of the launch tubes that ran down the side of the flight pod. The broad, thick wing dominated the side view, the damage inflicted during the skirmish with the Alliance barely visible below the titanic megalaser turret. Just aft of the wings the central hull began to rise again, blending into the engines.

Once again, Mal was impressed with the ships clean lines and latent threat. It was a scary ship, not because of artful design flourishes or sinister markings. It didn't scare one though menace or fear. It was scary because it was purposeful, lean and clearly a warship.

There was also a beauty to it, in its lean grace and solid build. Bit like Zoe really, now that he thought about it, or Inara. There was not a wasted compartment or excess material anywhere on her.

Nathaniel breathed out slowly. "Now that's a warship." He then turned to Mal. "But I still don't see how she could beat an Alliance fleet by herself."

In reply, Mal turned to Wash. "I think we need to let these two have a guided tour."

Wash smirked and reached for the controls. A couple minutes later they were lining up on the battlecruisers alpha bay, a tiny orange slot on the rear of the port flight pod at this distance. Behind them the Skyplex was already falling behind as they left her local area. Mal had another cargo to drop off, to his old friend Monty. He'd called Nathaniel from Durrilon, one of the other moons of the gas giant. His ship had suffered a mechanical failure and there were no workshops on that moon capable of fixing the fault. He needed certain parts. Nathaniel had acquired the parts easily enough, it had been getting them to Monty that had been the sticking part. But with Mal here...

At that moment however Nathaniel was transfixed as they slowly moved in closer to the massive warship, the engines of which loomed overhead.

"We're going in there?" Beth asked quietly, one trembling hand pointed to the narrow looking slot that was slowly growing larger ahead.

Wash grinned. "We are indeed."

"But... there's no room..." She trailed off however as they flew into the bay serenely.

Nathaniel looked at the people they could see working in the bay, without pressure suits, on the sleek, delta winged tripled engine fighters that sat on their launch cradles. Then he glanced back at the yawning opening that they had just come through. "Okay. NOW I'm impressed."

X-X-X-X-X-X

A day later one of a number of smaller, independent cargo hauler was heading for the skyplex. The crew may only take honest work... but they didn't object to occasionally bringing some goods to the black market on the Skyplex and selling them off. They normally didn't buy anything, acting only as sellers, but every now and again they might need or want something. Having some goods to trade with was always useful.

Easing around the icy moon, the ships captain was thinking about potential profits, when his pilot called for his attention.

Ahead of them the Skyplex should have stood out before them, festooned as it was with dozens of neon advertisements for services and goods, legal and otherwise. Space around would have been home to normally a dozen small craft, ranging from fighters to smaller transports.

Now though, there was only twisted, broken wreckage...

X-X-X-X-X-X

Kaylee half skipped back to her bunk, humming. It had been a Good Day, as Mal would have said. _Serenity _was in tip-top shape, everything running smoothly. They'd ferried Nathenial and his wife Beth to _Thunderchild_, and Kaylee always had a thrill run down her spine when ever she stepped onto the mighty battlecruiser.

Her lips quirked into a larger smile as she passed the open hatch to Mal's bunk; the mummer of softly spoken words – one male and strong, the other soft and feminine – emerged from within.

Everyone on board recalled how Mal would barge into her shuttle whenever he wished. Now it was the other way round, with Inara visiting his bunk.

Kaylee also knew, and this caused her to smile, that Inara was spending the nights there now, ever since Persephone. Being an early riser, Kaylee had heard the sounds of her leaving in the early part of the 'day'.

As she climbed down the ladder into her own, Kaylee idly wondered if those two were lovers yet...

All thoughts about Mal and Inara died in her mind however when she saw the inside of her bunk. Sat in the middle of the bed was Simon, with a slim, dark haired figured clutching him, head buried in his chest. Even without seeing the face, she knew who it was.

"Oh sweetie..." Kaylee said as she sank onto the bed behind River. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around the siblings. River's head moved a little, revealing her tear stained face and Simons soaked shirt. Kaylee looked up at Simon, a question in her eyes.

Wordlessly he passed to her a small reader. Taking in one hand, she shifted her attention to the screen. A few second later she gasped in shock, before dropping the reader and hugging River even tighter to her. Simon clutched them both, burying his face in Kaylee's own hair.

The reader landed softly on the bed, the screen with its dreadful words face up.

'_**Left ovary totally exhausted. Right ovary contains only half expected number of viable zygotes.**_

_**Chances of conception: less than 20% without intrusive IVF procedures being involved'**_


	20. The Dangers of Being Attractive

**DR: **Argh, sorry for the delay. I'm having trouble keeping track of the days... Plus sleeping in real late...

* * *

Chapter 20: The Dangers of Being Attractive

_Serenity _eased down through the outer atmosphere of the moon, leaving _Thunderchild _in high orbit. From within the cockpit Mal smiled lightly as he watched the horizon move up to meet them.

"Now, you're not going to threaten to crash us again, are you Wash?"

Wash laughed easily. "No Mal. Had enough of a crash back on that moon." Neither man mentioned that they were referring to the same moon on which Wash had died, but they both knew.

"Well, I'd best go pry Kaylee off the doc before we head out to help Monty out." He looked at Wash directly. "Once we're down, warm up the mule."

"Be with ya in just a few minutes Mal." Wash replied, then looked over his shoulder, a smile on his face. "And if you're looking for Kaylee, she's with Inara."

Mal shook his head. "Likely having her hair done again…" he commented as he turned around.

Down in Inara's shuttle Kaylee was not having her hair done. In fat, she was brushing Inara's out of the older woman's face. Inara herself was curled up in her bed, hands folded over her stomach and blankets pulled up tight around her.

"Uuggghhh…" she tried to say something, but all that come out was a groan.

"Easy there 'Nara." Kaylee said soothingly. "It'll pass in a couple of days."

"I want this over now!" Inara's words came out sharp and clear. The flare in her eyes faded almost as quickly as it had sprung up. "Sorry Kaylee. I shouldn't snap at you…"

Kaylee just laughed lightly. "Trust me, I understand."

Inara just sighed again as she returned her attention to trying to banish the discomfort she felt.

"Kaylee? You'd best not be…" Mal's voice trailed off when he took in the situation within the shuttle. "'Nara… you alright?"

"No I'm not bloody alright Mal!" Inara snapped, having no time for another verbal sparring match.

"You don't look it. Has the doc been in?"

"Been and gone." Inara spat out. "Sorry Kaylee." She whispered contritely.

"It's okay." She responded before looking back at Mal. "I'll be out in a minute Capt'n."

"Would someone mind telling me what's going on here?" Mal questioned.

"You really want to know Mal? Really?" Inara sat up a bit to glare at him. "Fine! I'm PMS'ing!"

"Oh. OHH…" Mal took two steps back instinctively. A confused look creased his face. "You never seemed to before…"

"It was the drug Mal. That gorram drug!" Mal felt a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth at Inara's foul word usage. "That drug suppressed the whole cycle, stopped me from feeling it at all. But now that I'm not a junkie anymore, it's come back with a vengeance."

"Okay…" Mal backed up another pace. "Well, anyway… Kaylee, we'll be on the ground soon, and I need you to come along to see about helping Monty with his parts."

"Sure thing." Kaylee smiled sweetly. Nodding, Mal backed out of the shuttle.

Inara sighed in frustration and self-annoyance as she let her head drop back onto the pillow. She knew that she'd been too harsh on him, but her hormones were all out of whack, giving her seriously powerful and deep mood swings.

"Now, you just rest and take it easy 'Nara." Kaylee told her gently. Standing up she smiled down at Inara. "It'll all be okay. You'll see."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal smiled as he watched Monty yelling at his crew. He was the same as ever, though after their mutual encounter with Yo-Saf-Bridge, when he'd shaved off his beard, he'd lacked his defining feature. Mal smirked when he saw that clearly Monty was trying to grow a new one.

Wash gunned the mule's engine a little, and they rolled up to stop just behind Monty's imposing figure. Hearing the engine, Monty turned about. When his eyes landed on Mal, the scowl he was wearing faded, to be replaced with a grin.

"Malcolm Reynolds... come here!" He growled, wrapping him up in a back slapped hug. "Fancy seeing you here on this dirtball of a moon."

"I was just passing through Monty, when I heard you had yourself in a bit of a pickle." Mal chuckled before sweeping his hand towards the trailer that was attached to the Mule. "I picked up what you needed to keep on flying."

"You're a life saver Mal." Monty clapped him on the shoulders, and then turned to look at the trailer. "And... well _hello there." _His smile widened when he saw Kaylee. "You bring angels too Mal?"

Mal sighed. "That's Kaylee, my mechanic." Mal looked sternly at the larger man, clearly sending a message to '_back off'._

"Relax Mal, I ain't going to steal your woman." Monty replied easily, grinning at what he thought was Mal's actions in defending what was his.

Mal rolled his eyes. "Kaylee, show these hun-da's how to install that thing. Wash..." He nodded towards some of Monty's crew. Wash understood with a nod.

"Monty, she ain't mine." Mal turned back to Monty. "She's married to my doc."

"Hey, no offence Mal." Monty backed up a bit, hands raised.

Mal waved him off. "Anyway, how did you get mixed up in this new movement Monty? I always thought you were smarter than that."

Monty looked at him sadly. "Mal, what rock have you been hiding under this last year? Things have gone from bad to worse. Everything's falling apart at the seams Mal, and the Feds are only making things worse by locking up innocent people. The real scum get away all the time now. Things on the rim are worse then they were during the war. Even the feds on the outer worlds are getting disillusioned."

As Monty went on, Mal nodded at all the right places, but he kept an eye on Kaylee and the men around her. So far they had only looked. Maybe knowing that their captain was within sight was keeping them in line.

Then he saw one mans hand drift close to her waist.

"Excuse me Monty." Mal said as he walked over. Kaylee was working on the part, and was nearly inside the ship. The man Mal had noted was the closest to her, and screened from Wash's sight by his fellows. His hand had almost reached Kaylee's rear when Mal gripped it tightly at the wrist.

"You had gorram better keep that to yourself." Mal told him firmly, gripped the offending wrist a little more. "I promised her Father that I'd look after her like I would my own sister."

The man, unshaven and with narrow eyes, glared back at him. He started to reach for his waist, but then Mal drew back his coat to rest his hand on his gun. The crewman backed down.

Kaylee, unaware of what had happened, backed up a bit and looked over her shoulder. "Almost done capt'n. Just need to align the regulators and this will run again."

"Good. Make it fast mei mei." Mal answered, continuing to watch Monty's crew. After a beaming smile, Kaylee slipped inside the hull.

Monty came storming over, glaring at the crewman Mal held. "I've told you before to keep your dirty hands to yourself you bun tyen-shung duh ee-dway-ro!" He spoke harshly. "I'm not going to tell you again. Get your gear and get off my ship."

The man faced Montye Ge. "Ah, come on, it was just a little fun..."

Monty cut him off with a fist to the gut; Mal released the man's arm as he saw Monty's arm move. "I know your kind of 'fun'. It makes me sick!" He all but bellowed. "Now get your sorry, perverted carcass off my ship!"

As the whipped man crawled away, Monty turned to face Mal, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry Mal, but this is what I have to put up with. Only the scum are left. The good ones either pulled out and hid, or got picked up by the Feds."

Mal nodded slowly, keeping his eye on the hatch that Kaylee had used. After a minute she stepped out again, a smudge of grease on her forehead and a smile on her lips. "All done!" She announced happily. She faced Monty. "Just keep the pressure in the coolant tubes down and the exchanger won't seize up again."

Monty nodded, then turned to bellow at his crew. "Well what you're standing around for, you blooming maggots? Get this ship ready to lift!"

As the crew scurried about Monty faced Mal once more. "Thanks for the help Mal." He stuck out his meaty hand. "See you on Hera?"

"Don't know yet." Mal answered as he clasped Monty's hand. "We'll see which way the wind blows."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Half an hour later, Mal sighed as he watched Kaylee browse through the stacks of components that filled the one workshop that the town boosted. A lot behind the building contained a half dozen old and falling apart shuttles, while the parts contained in the covered area in front looked like they had been salvaged from the desert plains out of town.

He looked around the quiet streets. Most of the towns' folk were either working in the fields or resting their homes. Few were out and about. Even Wash was not in sight, having dashed into another small store, saying that he saw something that little Kyle would like.

"Kaylee, _Serenity _can't be falling apart already. You and River assured me that she was better then new."

"She will captain. Have a little faith. Can never have too many spare parts though... oh!" Her hand snapped out and yanked a clear tube filled what looked like yellow granules out of the pile. Her face fell though when she turned it over. "It's cracked." She laid the broken synchroniser back.

Mal smiled as he shook his head. Kaylee was a true gem. Most young women were obsessed with clothes, makeup and jewellery. The little gasp she'd just emitted was normally used in regard to something unbearably cute, fuzzy and girlish. But with Kaylee, it was over engine parts.

"Kaylee..." He began, stepping forwards.

A very familiar click and whine stopped him in his tracks.

Freezing, he slowly looked over his shoulder, then down at the gun the thuggish man behind him held. More sounds of weapons being primed from in front of him made him look, to see Kaylee trembling between three more thugs. Seeing her with a shotgun at the small of her back, Mal made no move to resist when one thug withdrew his pistol. That thug then pulled on his shoulder to turn him around, and with a jerk of the rifle, the other gestured for him to step back to the street. The dying whine of a skiff's engines resounded from there.

Stepping out from the workshop area, Mal grimaced slightly when he saw one slighter thug tearing the wires from the mule, ensuring it wouldn't be running for a while. As Kaylee was pushed up besides him that he focused on the skiff itself. Large and armoured, with oversized engines, it was clearly a military model. But the men that surrounded them were clearly not Alliance personal. These were clearly gangsters and criminal thugs. Question was, who did they work for?

The answer came as an old, small of statue man stepped out of the skiff. The afternoon sunlight gleamed off his glasses and his bald head, while his lined face looked up at Mal with a soft smile, but with reptilian eyes.

"Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng..." Mal breathed

"We meet again, Mister Reynolds." Adelei Niska said in his soft, grandfatherly voice that was without a trace of warmth.

* * *

**O'Neill: **Aw crap...

**Inara: **Mal!

**Dom: **Mamma Mia!

**DR: **(*looks at Domminic Santini strangely*) When did you get here? (*Spys Airwolf sat on the ground outside*) Okay... don't answer.


	21. Furious Maelstrom

**DR: **Finally I can use this bit! This was one of the first scenes I worte for this story, so I hope you all enjoy it...

* * *

Chapter 21: Furious Maelstrom

Wash came running onto _Serenity_, gasping for breath. "He took them!" he gasped out.

"Who took who?" Zoe asked as she and the others gathered round the winded Wash.

"Niska." That one word caused a ripple of panic to run throughout the crew. "He's… he's got Mal and Kaylee."

Simon's jaw dropped, and Inara gasped in horror. Zoe went stone silent. It was just the widening of her eyes and the way her mouth thinned into a tight line that showed show she was affected by the news. Miranda looked between them, seeing the panic and dread in their eyes.

"Then we go get them." Zoe spoke after a second.

"It's not going to be easy." Wash pushed on. "I saw them being forced into a skiff. They could be anywhere by now."

"Even more so if they link up with a ship." Jayne threw in, his hands already tightening into fists.

"Well, we'll just have to get to them before they do." Zoe answered, her voice cold.

Behind them Miranda frowned, then raced to the stairs. She pulled herself up faster than she had ever done so, before racing to the bridge. She counted her lucky stars that she had been taught how to use the ships comm system. Franticly throwing switches, she opened a channel to the orbiting _Thunderchild_.

"This is Miranda to _Thunderchild_. I need to speak either with Colonel Achilles or Vega Obscura immediately!"

As she waited she vaguely heard the others follow her up. "What are you up too…" Zoe began, but then Achilles came on line.

"_This is Colonel Achilles. What's the problem young Miranda?"_

"Colonel, two of _Serenity_'s crew has been kidnapped. Their still on planet, but we think they'll be sent to a ship to get well away from here."

On the screen Achilles frowned while behind him Vega could be seen with a haunted look on his face. _"Understood Miranda, though I'm not sure what we can do from up here. Do we know who took them?"_

Miranda nodded. "It appears to be a man called Niska, and you can send down Vega."

On the small screen the two men looked at each for split second before Vega turned and left the frame. Over the still open comm _Serenity_'s crew heard Achilles order his crew to prepare Vega's transport for immediate launch. Then he turned back to face them. _"He's on his way. Now why send him, and who is Niska?"_

Miranda turned to look at Zoe, who stepped forwards. "Niska is a local crime lord. Very big on reputations and image. We once had a job with him, but when we realised we'd be stealing medicine from those who needed it, we gave it back. We gave back the money he paid us in advance, but Niska has a grudge against us, Mal in particular. He later snatched Mal and Wash, tortured them, and after I managed to buy back Wash, we went in and rescued Mal." She now looked at Miranda sternly. "Now why do we need your boyfriend?" Despite the serious situation, Miranda couldn't help but blush at that.

"I remember Kaylee's wearing her new necklace." She explained. "The central gem is zoid magnite. I remember telling her to be sure to keep it covered, as it stands out. The Fury…"

A gleam of understanding appeared in Achilles eyes. _"Ah, I see. He can home in on that just as easily as any tracer beacon." _He looked of screen for a moment. _"Vega's ship should be launching any moment now. Let's just pray he reaches them in time…"_

_X-X-X-X-X-X  
_

Mal looked around the interior of the skiff, feeling totally helpless. He could feel Kaylee trembling besides him, and that made him even more annoyed. Niska sat ahead facing them, a twisted smirk on his lined face. A half dozen men sat along the sides, watching them. Mal noted with disgust how they looked at Kaylee, particularly the one closest to her. He looked down at her frightened face.

"It'll be alright." He told her gently, to which she looked up at him. Her eyes were wide with fear, and tears were forming in the corner of her eyes. He could see that she knew what those men were thinking about, and it truly scared her. Mal tried to comfort her, but truthfully he didn't hold out any hope for them, not this time. Niska could take them almost anywhere in this skiff, and if they linked up with a ship… then his crew would have no chance of finding them. Not even the Colonials could.

He glared at the cruelly cheerful Niska. "There's no reason to involve her in this." He said. "I'm the one you want. Let her go, I'll stay."

Kaylee looked at in awe. "Capt'n…" She whispered, but he didn't hear it, as he was totally focused on Niska, who was slowly shaking his head.

"Mr Reynolds, still being heroic. But I'm afraid, it is not just you any more. Did you think I would forget that your crew stormed my station, killed my people, all to rescue you? No, I recall it all. Your crew took something of mine, and now they must pay."

At Mal's dark look, Niska waved his hand. "Oh do not be concerned about your friend. While we will return to where we left off before, she on the other hand will have her own journey of discovery. I am curious about what kind of person would follow you so blindly Mr Reynolds."

Kaylee began to whimper, and Mal wrapped an arm round her in an attempt to comfort her, even as Niska added "Worry about yourself, Mr Reynolds. This time, I am looking for at least a week to hurt you. And this time I have something else with which to torment you." He grinned evilly. "Yes?"

Mal couldn't think of anything to say to that, partly because at that moment he felt something under his hand. He rubbed his fingers for a moment to be sure. Underneath her floral top Mal could feel a necklace around Kaylee's neck. And it reminded him of what had happened earlier, before they had left the ship. He'd seen Miranda talk to Kaylee, pointing at the necklace she wore, before both young women had smiled as Kaylee had slid the item under her clothes, the small softly glowing crystal hidden.

And that made Mal wonder…

X-X-X-X-X-X

Not too far away from where they sped along, one of the smaller, older Colonial transports settled down in the dirt besides _Serenity_. It was an older craft, dating back to near the beginning of the Cylon War. It had a small cargo space, but one that was ideally sized for the cargo it now carried.

The front hatch opened up, and a mass of shadow grey armour plates emerged into the fading sunlight. It stood there for a moment, seeming to almost be sniffing the air, then with a burst of blue jets from several nozzles on its legs it sped away.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal stumbled as he was pushed out of the skiff. Righting himself, he turned in time to see one of the guards cruelly squeeze Kaylee's butt as she was pulled out. The sight caused him to lurch towards the man, but he barely made it two feet when he was restrained.

"Oh you are such a noble man Mr Reynolds." Niska said as he emerged, slapping one hand down onto Kaylee's shoulder once he was stood on the ground. "But as I told you once before, heroics are unseemly these days. Men like you have no place any more." He stepped past them towards the small ship that sat just ahead. Mal focused on Kaylee, his heart breaking. Her face was now streaked with tears and she was practically sobbing.

Mal had never told anyone, but to him Kaylee was like a little sister to him. He cherished her innocence and sweetness. Sometimes it did annoy him how she was always so cheerful, but deep down he knew that without her his days would have been so much darker.

Forced onwards by his guards, they approached the ship ahead of them. It was a squat, ugly thing, most likely produced in an Alliance workshop. Just beyond it he could see the nose of an Alliance gunship, though this one was painted black rather than the standard white. Mal's hopes failed.

Suddenly there was a crack of thunder, and the stubby wing holding up the right engine of the transport disintegrated in a brilliant flash of light. Even as he blinked away the after image, there was another crack, and an explosion blossomed on the transports stern. This time he saw for an instant the bolt of energy that raced ahead to strike the ship. Two more followed, blasting apart one landing leg and ripping away a portion of the ships back.

As one the group had stopped, frozen at the destruction before them. No one could believe what was happening.

Then the air was split apart by a deafening roar. It echoed around the valley, filling it with a primordial sound of rage. The guards around them jumped, their faces masks of terror. But the two from _Serenity _looked at each other and grinned. They knew that roar.

Almost casually Mal turned around, to see a very welcome, if frightening, sight. Stood on top of the rise, silhouetted by the sinking sun, was the Fury. With the sun behind it all that could be seen was a black shape, with two triangular glowing red eyes. The tail was shifting about, and Mal could just see the guns shift.

Both barrels suddenly erupted with energy, and in the yellow backlight from the blasts the harsh angles and deadly form of the zoid was made clear for a split second. If Mal had not already seen and been around the zoid before, it would have been enough to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. From some of the sounds around him as the skiff they had used was blasted to oblivion, many of Niska's men where having just such a reaction.

He looked at Niska… and smiled in glee. Niska was staring at the Fury as it stood there, his mouth hanging open and quivering, his eyes wider than the glasses he wore.

Some of the men were firing their weapons at the zoid, and Mal shook his head at their stupidity. Nothing they held could possibly hurt it. At the best all they'd manage to do would be to scratch the paint. And of course tick the zoid off, which was something that Mal had long ago learned was not something you wanted to do if you had a desire to live a long life.

A missile rocketed out from the billowing clouds of smoke that pillared up from the wreaked transport, before the nose of the gunship emerged. Mal snapped his head around to follow the path of the missile, which caught the Fury in the shoulder. For a moment it vanished behind a fireball, but then the flames faded away to reveal the zoid still standing there, glaring at the gunship that hovered up ahead. Mal would have sworn that the eyes narrowed slightly.

He watched as the head lowed and the tail stopped shifting. Then the plates on the tail opened up, and the neck was held straight. As the jaws opened wide, Mal's eyes widened too as he recognised what was about to happen.

"KAYLEE, TAKE COVER!" He yelled as he ran towards her, throwing them both behind a nearby boulder as a glowing sphere of energy formed in the zoids open jaws, bathing the entire area in a sickly bluish-purple light.

With the sound of a thousand lightning strikes the Fury fired, the beam of charged particles enveloping the gunship in an instant. Men around them cried out as the sheer power of the weapon beat at their eyes and ears. As his head was turned in that direction, Mal saw how about half of each of the gunships wings, about a half-dozen meters long each, fell to the ground, each part flopping down like they were half molten. Of the rest of the ship there was no sign.

The Fury ceased the attack, and the only sounds were the cried of the blinded and scorched men, blended with the roaring of the Fury's venting system as it dumped all the heat generated by the attack. Then there was click.

"_Now then, are you going to let Captain Reynolds and his engineer go?" _Vega's voice was polite, but full of ice.

Pushing themselves up, both Mal and Kaylee made their way towards the Fury, as not one of the men Niska had brought even moved from where they lay. Mal did stop at the one to retrieve his gun, but apart from that neither took much notice of them. As they approached the zoid a distant hum grew louder, and Mal could see the Mule approaching fast. When it got close enough Mal could tell that it was Zoe and Jayne inside.

He turned to Kaylee, who was smiling now. "See, told you it was going to be okay."


	22. The Eve of The War

**DR: **Hey hoy, first update since returning to work... boy I'm tired! Anyway, here's the last chapter with 'bad' events...

**Bit: **...And some loving...(*grins at Inara*)

**Inara: **(*ignores Bit completely*)

**DR: **Bit, behave. But yes, there is some of 'that' going on in here... sorta. To keep the rating the same, I've cut those scenes out and will upload them as a seperate, 'M' rated story at a later date, assuming people want me to...

**O'Neill: **Whatever. Onward!

* * *

Chapter 22: The Eve of the War

_Serenity _rose up into space alongside the transport that once more contained the Fury. Ahead, the solid form of _Thunderchild _was a welcome sight.

In the cockpit, Mal nodded to himself when a hail came in from the Colonial warship.

"_I take it everything went well?" _Achilles asked.

"Cut it close, but those two got to us in time." Mal answered. "So, where to next Colonel?"

Achilles answer was a long time coming. _"Hera, Reynolds. We're going to the planet Hera."_

Mal frowned. "Why?"

"_Check the news feeds."_

Confused, Mal told Wash to pull them up. Behind him he heard the rest of the crew moving into the cockpit, wanting to know what was happening.

"_...tragedy struck today when an illegal gathering of citizens, goaded into meeting in a public place on Hera by extremists and terrorists, came under fire from those same individuals, hoping to goad the crowd into rioting. Fortunately, Federal Security Services were able to identify the persons responsible for this atrocity and have already made several arrests..."_

"_As with everything in this system," _Achilles cut in. _"The truth is rather different. This was broadcast earlier." _

The feed from the battlecruiser showed a man stood with a mike a short distance from a crowd of people, chanting and waving placards.

"_...for INN, I'm here on Hera, where a large number of ordinary citizens have gathered to protest against the Alliance Governments infringement of liberties. The crowd is determined to be a peaceful protest; their only desire is that their voice is heard._

_Most of these people are from the surrounding areas, office workers, doctors and shopkeepers. Decent people with honest complaints and concerns. They have picketed the Alliance controlled government buildings here, and so far have not offered any sign of violence." _As the camera swung to follow the leading edge of the crowd, the tall, lean shapes of two Public Security Towers came into view. Mal had learned about them from Monty, Gregory and Badger. They were supposed to be the means to monitor for crime and other threats. Equipped with a battery of cameras, they cut the need for feds to be stationed everywhere, allowing them to be available to respond to a problem.

"_So far there has been no visible response from the Federal secur... wait. Something's happening to the towers."_

The camera swung upwards to focus on the top of the towers just ahead of the crowd. The top section, which contained a number of cameras and speakers, was rising up. When it stopped, two sections moved out from the core, held by a thick pole. A hatch opened in the centre of the core as a long, thin rod extended from the side units.

Mal's eyes widened in horror as he realised what he was looking at. Quickly he stepped in front of Kaylee, to shield her from what was going to happen.

The side pods rotated, thick belts shifting with the motion. From the central hatch a squat box rose, in parallel with the side units, which were now clear as being heavy machineguns.

Inara gasped and turned away.

Between them, the two towers massacred most of the crowd. Dozens were gunned down in the first few seconds, and more were killed as they tried to run and find cover. A few took cover behind a road vehicle, but one of the towers stopped firing the machineguns, and instead used the central barrel. A fine red laser beam stabbed out, slicing right through the car... and the people behind it. The feed cut off.

"_That happened only a couple of hours ago, and despite the Alliances attempts, it appears that the whole planet has fallen in rebellion, sparked by that shooting spree, and the word is spreading." _Achilles spoke once more, his tone weary. _"From what we've gathered by listening to the pirate bands, the people are in an uproar, but are terrified too. That fear of reprisal is stopping them from acting."_

Mal slowly nodded. "Looks like Nathaniel was right." He sucked in a deep breath. "You're planning on joining the fight."

"_Correct. I don't what us to get embroiled in a civil war, but I can not stand by and watch as innocent people are killed. The Alliance has already made an enemy with us, but we will attempt to mediate." _Achilles smiled grimly, acknowledging the likelihood of that happening. _"If the Alliance pushes us any further though..."_

Mal could hear the latent threat in Achilles words.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Niska was sweating heavily as he and his men finally reached town. It had taken them the whole night to return to where they had snatched Malcolm Reynolds and his engineer, and now they were all tired, dusty and sore. Many were sporting severe sunburns from the weapon that... that metal demon had fired.

As he walked towards the centre of town, Niska fumed. He'd been terrified when he saw that monster, but now he was furious. While he owned many stations, he didn't have a large fleet of ships. And the Gunship was especially precious. It had taken a lot of work to get a full military spec gunship, and it had paid back dividends with its intimidation value. The ability to have the Feds 'on call' – or at least a very realistic facsimile – was a bonus.

But now it was gone, blown away, along with a valuable ship and skiff. He knew Mal had powerful friends now, but Niska would not allow this stain on his reputation to linger any more! He vowed there and then that once he returned to his skyplex, all his resources would be bent on finding Malcolm Reynolds and bringing him to Niska. He'd also have men find the secret of that monster, and how to turn it to serve him.

He was so focused inwards, he didn't take note of the wailing of older women in the town, nor the angry yells of men, young and old. He was unaware of how they lamented the disappearance of all the women in the town between the ages of twelve and twenty.

In fact he was totally unaware of what was happening until a building just in front of him exploded with green fire.

Niska was thrown onto his back by the blast. With the wind knocked out of him, he at last heard the wails, now changing to cries of fear and panic as there were more explosions. From his position on the ground, Niska was able to look straight up towards the sky. From up there he saw bolts of sickly green rain down from a single point... a point with a small black arrowhead in the middle.

People began to run towards the outskirts, but a fine red beam came down, widening as it did, until at ground level it was several dozen meters wide. It hammered into the ground and then circled the town, drawing a ring of fire that trapped the townsfolk within it. The shaking of the ground as the laser blasted apart the top soil caused people to stumble, some right into the super hot flames rising from the carved earth. Death was mercifully quick.

And all the while the green bolts rained down, each one igniting the air as it fell. Buildings disintegrated as they were struck, even metal burning as the materials were scattered far and wide.

Niska gasped for breath, the super heated air burning his lungs. His clothes had started to smoulder when another green bolt came down, but didn't veer one way or another.

Niska had just enough time to realise that the bolt would land on _him _when the plasma shot slammed into the ground.

In orbit, the Nightbringer continued to fire until the whole area enclosed by the ring of fire it had laid down was a rolling maelstrom of flame and plasma. Its job done, the ship fired it's thrusters to turn after the Colonial ship.

Within one of the black ships holds, the young women kidnapped the previous night were barely aware of the change, trapped as they were in their own nightmares. Held in place by bonds that flowed from the bulkheads and around their bodies, their minds were kept drugged by direct jugular feeds. Low moans of fear and pain echoed throughout the hold as the ship accelerated, its engines pushed as hard as they could go.

The Nightbringer had a new mission, one that superseded all others. Its next target was the Colonial ship itself...

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal sighed as he sank onto his bunk. Today had been a more 'interesting' day than he cared for. He didn't dare think about what would have happened had Vega and the Fury not been on hand to rescue them. Niska would have tortured him again, when the last time still gave him nightmares occasionally. As for Kaylee... he shuddered, refusing to even acknowledge the danger she'd been in.

He'd just removed his boots when the chime from the hatch sounded. He sighed. "Come on down 'nara. You don't need to knock."

Swiftly but gracefully Inara stepped down into the cabin. Like she had done before she palmed the button to close the hatch behind her as she stepped around the ladder. "It's the proper thing Mal, to give you the choice of refusing entry."

"'Nara, you know I'd never refuse you." Mal said gently as he stepped over to her. As she looked up at him, the fear and relief that earlier he'd seen hinted in her eyes when he'd returned to _Serenity_ were all over her face. He was surprised to see a tear begin to fall from the corner of one eye. "Hey..." He half whispered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away.

That simple action appeared to the last straw for her, for with a gasp she threw her arms around him, dragging him into a tight hug. Mal really didn't put much resistance: having her warm, soft, desirably feminine body pressed up against his was something to relish.

"I thought I'd never see you again..." She whispered, her voice shaky with barely controlled emotions.

Having feared the same, Mal had no words to reassure her. He gently eased her back a little so he could look at her face. Looking into her dark, liquid eyes, he saw fear and longing. Along with rising desire that matched his own...

With a short muttered curse he dropped his mouth onto hers, letting go of any form of control. She stiffened for a moment, taken aback by his forwardness. But then her tongue darted out of her mouth to invade his own, while her arms snaked around him once more, no longer seeking comfort, but instead rousing passion.

Mal luxuriated in the taste of her spiciness, the soft curves of her magnificent body. For once her sordid past didn't matter. He forgot her old job, her former role in society. Now, there was just them, him and her.

X-X-X-X-X-X

In the far corner of the crew cabins, River was gasping just as badly as either of the two lovers had been. Her clothes were rumpled and sweat stained, and her eyes almost glassy. Slowly she turned her head till she was looking directly at where Mal and Inara were, even with the bulkheads between them and her.

"Gorram it you two..." She whispered, but there was no real heat to her words.

X-X-X-X-X-X

In the next cabin, Jayne tossed over, muttering in his half asleep condition. "Gorram crazy's still blooming screaming......"

X-X-X-X-X-X

The next 'morning', Wash's voice over the comm broke them both from the light doze they were in.

"_Mal, you'd better get up here."_

Mal shared a look with Inara, whose eyes mirrored his own concern, before he grabbed his shirt and pants. Throwing them on rapidly, he was only vaguely aware of Inara stepping past him to collect her own gown and night dress. Once he was dressed enough, he opened the hatch above him and began to climb out. When he reached the forward passage he noted that Zoe was making her way out of the dining area. Other footsteps indicated that others were also responding to Wash's call.

Wash was waiting for in the cockpit, a stricken look on his face. "You'd better see this..." was all he said.

Mal followed his eye line... to a display of a news broadcast. After a moment Wash must have un-muted the sound, as the word spoken by the reporter began to be heard.

"_...regret to announce that the main settlement on Durrilon was destroyed yesterday..." _Small gasps of horror came from behind him, revealing the presence of both Inara and Kaylee. But Mal was totally focused on the words. _"...from an unexpected and totally unpredicted meteor shower. Rescue crews have searched the area, but report that there are no survivors. The Ministry of Public Concern released a statement just minutes ago, stating that 'While this tragic loss of life is shocking, it should be noted that had such a shower threatened a core world it would have been detected and destroyed. But out on those savage outer planets... are horribly exposed to such dangers.' When asked about the fact that this was the second settlement on an outer planet to be destroyed by rogue asteroids in a week, the Ministry official responded by stating that 'such are the dangers of the outer planets, especially those that lack or resist Alliance rule and protection.'"_

Wash turned the feed off as the reporter launched into another story, but Mal didn't notice. He stood there, unmoving, a dark look in his eyes.

"We were just there yesterday..." Kaylee whimpered. "All those people, killed..."

"They weren't killed." Mal cut in, drawing startled looks from the others. "They were murdered."

Before the rest of the crew could even begin to refute Mal's statement, the console behind Wash chimed. He turned his chair to look at it. "We're got a call coming in, from our big friend."

"Put him through." Mal snapped, tension clear in his tone.

The screen cleared to show Achilles unsmiling face. In fact, he looked downright ticked off. _"I take it from your expressions that you've seen the report on the local news that I just have." _He spoke with no pre-amble.

"We saw it." Mal replied simply. "Seems pretty clear to me."

On the screen Achilles nodded. _"Yes. That meteor shower storms a cover, nothing more. If there had been such a storm, we would have seen it."_

"So I take it you think the same thing that I do?"

Achilles just nodded grimly. _"I don't just think, I know."_ He paused for a long moment. _"Listen, continue with your journey, and don't worry about it. We're going to drop back for a bit... and deal with things."_

The cold way he said that made shivers run down most of _Serenity_'s crews spines. They knew, even without asking, that this time there would be no offer to 'walk away'. This time, _Thunderchild _would show just what she really could do.

* * *

**Daniel: **Oh oh.

**Teal'c: **Indeed.

**DR: **Yes, next time we have the event you've all been waiting for... the day of reckoning for the Alliance Cruiser.

**Mitchell: **Those fools don't stand a chance.

**DR: **(*Evil smile*) We'll see...

* * *


	23. Darkness & Light

**DR: **Okay people, this is the chapter you've all been waiting for! _Thinderchild _Vs Alliance 'Black Ops' cruiser, one on one!

**Zeke:** Yay! (*graps bowl of popcorn*)

**O'Neill: **Exxcceelllent!

**ZBC Judge Robot: **(*Hops in... somehow*) Scanning area...

**DR: **This ain't a oid battle...

**Dark Judge Robot: **(*hops in and knocks over Judge*) NO! This battle...

**DR: **Get out, both of you!

(*A rusty tow hook whips in and wraps around both Judges. With offscreen laughter the cable is tightened, and both judges are dragged out*)

**DR: **Thanks Mater!

* * *

Chapter 23: Darkness & Light

The Alliance NightbringerCruisers smooth advance through space belied the furious pace it was straining to keep up. While top speed was not an issue in space, acceleration and momentum were much more important than in an atmosphere. It was pure Newtonian.

Slowly though, the Nightbringerwas closing the gap. _Serenity _was moving faster than it should, but the Alliance crew knew that if needed they could overrun the transport. Their real target – the 'Colonial' vessel – was hidden from them at this range, but they were confident of locking on when they got closer.

So supremely confident were they of their ships abilities –and such confidence was well justified – the thought that the Colonials would hang back and ambush them never even entered their minds.

_Thunderchild _hung dead still in space, a significantly large asteroid just off Beta Bay. _Serenity_'s path had taken them close to an asteroid field orbiting the gas giant, and Achilles had decided to confront their shadow here. By now the story of the settlements destruction had spread throughout the crew, and each and every one of them considered the Alliance responsible.

Within her armoured hull, the crew sat and waited, tension hanging in the air. They all knew that their ship could wipe the floor with any regular Alliance cruiser, but the ship that was following them was certainly not one of those. It's partially stealthy nature hinted that this was some sort of special-ops ship, one that might be far more advanced and powerful than the regular cruisers.

The Vipers sat in their launch cradles, pilots sitting within, but their engines off. Achilles had decided to try and hold them back for a little longer. He would launch them when needed, but not before. He wanted this battle to be fought in the old style, warship to warship. Early in the Colonials history of space warfare, the smallest combat craft had been gunships. True fighters hadn't been developed until much later. Back then, size mattered most. Bigger ships could have thicker hulls, could absorb more damage, and could mount both larger and more weapons than their brethren.

The appearance of the Cylon fighter-bomber craft had thrown the Colonial design teams into a panic, as they were capable of hurting large ships – something nearly every other fighter craft around could not do – while still being reasonable dogfighters. It had been the direct cause for the name that was tagged to them... Raiders.

Over the yahrens, as the Colonials had closed the technological gap, tactics had swung towards the use of standoff strikes using Vipers, while the warships focused on anti-fighter defences. But in the last hundred yahrens it had began to swing again, leading to the development of the Tigers... and ultimately his own ship.

Achilles glared out of the forward view port, waiting for that murderous Alliance ship. All the while his mind was furiously planning the engagement, forming and rejecting tactics, attack angles and priorities. Part of his difficulty was the simple fact of not knowing exactly what he was going to be facing. Even against the Cylons he would have had some idea. But this was new territory.

There was also the rather large fact of that every time he thought about the Alliance, his blood ran hot with anger.

He just knew that the ship that was following them was the one that had destroyed that settlement, and the other one before that. Those people had no way to defend themselves, no warning at all. It was cold blooded murder. Achilles would have expected it of the Cylons, but for other humans to do so...

Despite his anger over the injustice, he knew that he could not just destroy the vessel. No, to fully bring the crew – and the Alliance Government – to justice, he had to take the ship, and then bring the crew to a war crimes court. Only then would justice be done.

It was the first phase that would be tricky, crippling the ship without destroying it or killing the crew, but Achilles knew that once he had sent troops over, the ship would fall quickly. The marines were ready to go and, as Sire Masters might have said, 'Kick ass and take names'. They were just as eager to make the Alliance pay.

The tension was mounting, but it jumped to a new level when the sensor officer called out.

"Sir, we've got a reading, bearing three-one-niner mark nineteen."

"Right on our last track..." Achilles muttered. "Any details?" He asked aloud.

"Too far sir. Sensors are having a hard time locking down at this range." The officer answered.

"Very well." Achilles rotated his chair to face his XO. "Captain, bring all stations to full alert."

"Aye sir."

As the XO moved off, the sensor officer spoke once more.

"Target is firming up sir. We're getting trace fusion based thrust emissions. Localised energy signature... Coming into Form Scan range."

"Run it." Achilles ordered. "I want to know what we're up against."

"Aye sir." It took a few long seconds for the form scan to work at such a range.

"Form scan coming in... unidentified ship, eighty percent similarity with known Alliance design cruiser."

Achilles didn't say anything, he just stared at the display.

The craft revealed by the form scan looked like that arrowhead cruiser that had led the fleet that opposed them, and they had to destroy when it tried to ram them.

_This _ship however had features that gave Achilles pause. The best word he could come with to describe was _mutated_.

The prow section, smooth curves on the previous ship, here was formed of stepped, rounded plates, like it was some kind of segmented creature. A disturbingly organic looking growth projected from under the prow, with four thin tendril like spines in a ring. From the outer edge of the rear 'shell', just outside of where the heavy missile banks had been on the previous ship, here this craft had a number of long, sweeping spines that reached out into space. In various places on the hull there were other growths that conformed to the hull, rising up before sinking back into the hull. Some sections of hull seemed to have been replaced or covered with organic looking parts.

Wherever there was the organic looking material, the form scan grew weaker, fuzzier. Clearly whatever material was used to mutate the hull had sensor absorbing properties.

Achilles shivered, thinking back to what Sire Kane had told him in confidence, just before he had left Zi to come here. This ship appeared to confirm his fears.

As the ship came on, a few more details came to light. Sensors were still having trouble locking in exactly were the ship was. Not enough to prevent them finding and killing her, but enough to make the precision strikes they had used on other ships before much harder. The power readings were much higher than the last ship. There were no signs of fighter or missile bays, though that prow extension looked suspiciously like an added weapon.

Then the ship came within range of the life sensors. "Picking up life signs... high number of human life signs, plus a diffuse, unknown reading."

Achilles nodded, his suspicions' confirmed. That ship was partly alive. How _much _alive it was remained to be seen. "Any further details Lieutenant?"

The officer was silent for a moment. "Number is equal to the previous ship of similar type... but the distribution is wrong. If our scans were right, and this ships interior is the same as the last, then there is a large concentration of people in the cargo holds. The diffuse readings are interfering with the scans, but it looks like those in the holds are in some kind of distress."

Achilles eyes narrowed. He had a feeling he knew what was going on. But now it was time. "Prime all weapon systems. Helm, ahead one eighth."

Slowly _Thunderchild _nosed out from behind the asteroid. The crew of the Nightbringer were startled at first, since they were almost on top of it. But then they accepted the challenge, and turned to meet the ship head on. The small, pathetic transport could wait; here was the real target.

"Alliance ship is changing course... coming onto direct bearing... picking up targeting scans. She's looking for a fight."

Achilles nodded. "Hail them." He waited for a moment before speaking again. "Alliance vessel, power down and surrender. You only have one chance, don't waste it."

They Alliance response was to open fire.

"Incoming plasma bolt! Sensors read higher density and temperature than previous versions!"

"Positive shields, both sets! Plot the origin of hostile weapons fire!"

The heavy shutters on the ship slammed shut, sealing away the vulnerable view ports. Space around the _Thunderchild _shimmered for a few seconds as the energy shields flickered into life before settling down.

The plasma bolts struck just after the shields had settled. The venomous green blobs slammed into them and spread across the surface, conforming to the shields shape. Some of the lower energy plasma leaked through, but the gap between the shields and the hull was too great for the leakage to be a threat.

A blood red beam lashed out, slashing across _Thunderchild_'s prow. The shields turned a muggy red as the beam swiped across.

"Identify that weapon!"

"Readings suggest a crude form of cutting laser sir. Similar to our first beam laser weapons, only more powerful."

Achilles snorted in annoyance. "Fire control, fire at will."

"Aye sir... "

From across _Thunderchild_'s prow a flurry of red darts lashed out towards the Nightbringer. However, unlike with the other Alliance ships, several missed, most only by a few metres. The Nightbringer had engaged a high powered jamming field, trying to level the playing field. Strikes played across the forwards hull of the Alliance ship, the bolts blasting pockmarks in the organic hull.

"Hostile has activated a jamming field sir. It's making targeting difficult. The Hostiles organic type hull appears to be absorbing some of our weapons power too."

Achilles cursed quietly, then spoke firmly. "Continue firing! I want that ship!"

The two ships exchanged fired once more, the plasma blasts splashing across the _Thunderchild_'s shields while the beam once again was slashed across, leaving a bloody line across the surface. In response, turbolaser bolts stabbed back, blasting chunks of black material off the Nightbringer. Some of the bolts hit areas where the organic coating was thinnest, and there the bolts tore the outer hull open. One of the large spines that projected from the cruisers midsection was hit near the base, the concentrated laser bolt shearing through. The spine spun off into space withering as it went, leaking a fine mist of a thick, black liquid.

The Nightbringers gun lashed out again, must quicker than before. The laser stabbed out first, but instead of slashing across the lager ship, it held position, pouring all its energy into one spot. The shields weakened under the assault.

As the laser cut off the plasma blasts arrived. One spent itself on the shields, but the second slipped through a weaker spot and reached the hull, albeit losing almost half its mass and speed in the process. The plasma was smeared along the side of the _Thunderchild_'s prow, the superheated material charring a long, black mark into the hull.

The two ships were almost on top of each other. Gingerly they adjusted course to prevent a collision, _Thunderchild _diving, the Nightbringer pulling up and yawing a little to starboard. As the two skated past each other, the space between them was criss-crossed with fire as they hammered away.

_Thunderchild _had volume of fire, as every laser turret that could be brought to bear fired, with the exception of the Megalasers. Achilles had ordered that they be held back, as the power output was too great for general use. The Nightbringers keel was savaged as it passed overhead, whole sections of the keel flensed away under the assault of the bright red bolts. The Nightbringer left a long trail of debris behind it as they completed the pass.

The Alliance ship had only a few weapons, but they began to fire rapidly as the bio-armour soaked in the energy of the Colonials weapons and channelled it into the weapons. But the crude organic armour could not withstand the assault for long, and quickly the fire slacked off, before dying completely as the weapons were destroyed. Before they were taken out, they rained plasma down onto the broad back of the Colonial battlecruiser, at their height producing almost solid waves. The shields held it back at first, but some bolts slipped through and charred armour. However the armour on _Thunderchild _was thick, and the bolts fired were small. A couple of laser turrets were taken out of action, but the hull withstood the assault with ease.

As he watched the monitor showing the other ship, Achilles nodded slowly, pleased with the visible damage. Then he frowned, leaning closer to the screen.

"Helm, full power to engines! Hard to port!"

Behind _Thunderchild _the Nightbringer completed its spin, allowing itself to drift backwards while bringing its main weaponry to bear on the larger ships engines. The plasma bolts had just been fired when the Colonial ship leapt forwards. Surprised by the sudden, incredible acceleration, the Alliance gunners took a second to react. The laser regained the target, but the shields held. The plasma bolts sailed past the stern, not even skimming the shields.

And now _Thunderchild _was turning, bringing her broadside to bear. All along her nine hundred metre length laser bolts stabbed out, probing the battered Alliance ship. The bio-armour was flayed away, before a dozen bolts converged on the prow laser and blasted it into nothing. The backlash of power cracked open the hull that ran over the keel behind the laser, and one of the ships reactors spiked. Automatic systems cut in and shut it down before the reaction ran away.

The two ships drifted apart, too far for either side's weapons to reach... except one. One of the megalaser turrets turned and fired. The paired blue-white bolts smashed into the Nightbringers portside plasma projector. Careful notation of the spread of the bolts had allowed the gunners to pinpoint the projectors to the same place as the other ship had had missile bays. The blast tore the side of the Nightbringer open... and ruptured the plasma conduits that led from the reactors to the projector. Drive plasma spewed out in an endless stream, incinerating anything in the way. The unexpected thrust pushed the ship to the side, and drained the main engines of thrust too.

It couldn't last. Quickly the second reactor was drained of too much plasma, and the fusion reaction spluttered and died. The lights within the damaged sections of hull flickered and died as the ship began to drift.

Achilles watched the screen closely. "Report."

"Hostile craft has lost all main power. We're reading emergency power only."

Achilles nodded slowly, the tension easing from his body a little. "Stand down weapons. Tell the marines they have a go."

X-X-X-X-X-X

The two Colonial shuttles moved up to latch onto the drifting Alliance ship. Once the hulls were mated, the airlocks were quickly over-ridden.

The Alliance crew had rushed to prepare a trap, but they did not account for the marines tactics. While Earth had never had _space _ship boarding actions, they had had plenty of _water _ship actions, plus an uncountable number of science-fiction theories and stories to draw on. The Marines expected the Alliance to have prepared something, and so planned to counter that.

Several flash-charges were the first things to go through the now open airlocks. Colonial development of flashbangs, they created stunning displays of light and sound. As the Alliance crews tried to recover, the organoids attached to the platoons dived into their midst. With a hulking metal beast right the middle of their defensive plan, it was understandable that the human marines entered the ship unnoticed. Until they started stunning the crewmen, not worrying if they accidentally hit the organoids: it had quickly been found that they were immune to the Colonials weapons 'stun' setting.

Once both platoons had a foothold, the individual squads spread out, heading for the suspected locations of critical points. As crew were encountered they were stunned, stripped of any weapons or comms then tied up, their locations noted for later retrieval.

A few of the Alliances assault troopers rushed the squads of marines, but disciplined fire burned each one down. While full auto fire drained the rifles power packs much more quickly, letting one of those troopers get in the midst of them was much worse. All the marines remembered the failed takeover attempt.

The crew tried to respond, but the marines were relentless, pushing forward hard and fast. The nature of the Nightbringer turned against it now, as it had fewer crew than the standard Judgement class on which it had been based. The marines moved deeper into the ship.

The deeper they went, the more unnerving things got. The interior was dark, dimly lit. The rounded curves of Alliance ship design were even more pronounced. At points nearly every marine felt that they were not boarding a ship as crawling inside a living creature.

Most unsettling however was when they found blown panels. The odour of charred flesh hung in the air, and the exposed systems and circuits had a mixture of wires, microchips and organic elements, all mixed together to the point were it was hard to tell were the organic ended and the manufactured began. It was a Giger nightmare.

The arrogance of the select Alliance officers now worked against them, as they did not initiate a data core wipe until it was too late – the Colonial marines had taken the core chamber and isolated it from the bridge. The captain began to set the self-destruct, but even before he finished the first set of codes the bridge door was blown open, and a stream of stun bolts scythed across the bridge. The two officers who had not been hit fired back wildly, but the marines held back, out of the line of fire. When the two stopped to reload, a second volley of bolts caught them both.

The ships captain, struggling against the stun effect, tried to complete the code, but the marines stormed the bridge shot him again. Despite being hit with two stun blasts, he tried to trigger the destruct, and so the marine sergeant changed the setting on his laser before firing once more.

Quickly yet methodically the marines took the ship. The crew fought back fanatically, not one surrendering. A few tried to ambush the marines, only to be smoked out by more flash-charges. They were taking no chances, and were ruthless in their execution of their assault. Within twenty minutes a message was relayed by the shuttles that the ship was theirs.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Achilles sat back in his quarters, reading the initial after action reports. The damage to his ship was light, mostly charred armour. The few weapons that had been taken out would easily be fixed and brought back online in a few days. Some crew injuries, but no fatalities. Once more, those energy shields had proved themselves to be worth all the hassle, effort and materials needed to install them.

The reports on the Alliance ship however were far more disturbing. Having captured the data cores intact, his engineers had quickly figured out how to download the data into a more compact and secure Colonial storage system. Already the Warbook was being updated with the Alliance ship registry, including the information that the Alliance had kept from its people.

The Nightbringer class certainly earned its name, and this one in particular. They had seized the captains and ships log, and both proved what he had suspected. This ship had been following them, wiping out any colony where they had had contact with the locals. Persephone escaped simply because he'd held _Thunderchild_ back, away from the planet.

Guilt clawed at Achilles gut, but it paled against his anger at the Alliance, which was reinforced by the evidence before him. It had been the Alliance which had destroyed those people, not him or his ship.

That thought led him onto the captives they had freed from the Nightbringers hold. All of them were women, ranging from barely twelve years old to just over twenty. All had been kidnapped, drugged and secured in the hold like they were cattle. The marines who had found them had been shocked to the core. Since them all of those poor women had been brought aboard his ship, in one of the larger recovery wards. Some had awoken already, and nearly all had been hysterical. From the little gathered so far, they had all been snatched during the night from their homes in the two towns that had been destroyed. They knew nothing more than that, having been kept in drug induced nightmares constantly, unable to wake up. They couldn't even say how long they had been held.

The cruiser itself was a monster, a standard 'Judgement' class ship 'enhanced' with bio-technology. While nothing near what Kane had talked about, it was certainly a step along that path. To Achilles, and many of his crew, this was an abomination, a perversion of technology and nature. The zoids were acceptable, as they were purely machines, right down to the nano-systems that allowed them to 'heal'. The closest they got to a biological system was their cores. Even the organoids were more machine than organic, but it was a subtle blending, a perfect fusion.

But this ship... it wasn't a fusion of the disciplines, it was a mutation. Copper wires ran into organic nerves, machine pumps that fed blood vessel like tubes... it turned his stomach.

Laying the reports back down, he reached out and thumbed his console. "Bridge, this is Colonel Achilles. Put me through to the XO."

After a few seconds, the XO came on _"Colonel."_

"Captain, rig the towing cables."

"_The towing cables sir?"_ Achilles could understand his surprise. It had been rare for another ship to tow another for some time.

"Yes captain. We're taking that cruiser with us to Hera. As proof of the depths of depravity that the Alliance Government is willing to go too."

"_Aye sir."_

_

* * *

_**Sheppard: **Someone's pissed off...

**DR: **Yep. Wouldn't you be too?

**Sheppard: **...Yeah, I would.


	24. Confronting the Night

**DR: **Well, once more into the breach. My beta has had the chance to look over the whoel stroy now, so from now on we are beta'd.

* * *

Chapter 24: Confronting the Night

Mal's face was grim as they approached Hera. Ever since the end of the war, he'd stayed as far away from the planet as he could. As soon as _Serenity_ was running, they had lifted off and left the planet behind. Not once had they looked back.

But now they were back, and that fact churned up all manner of feelings in Mal's gut.

Besides him, Inara could see both his face and the space ahead. As they had approached Hera, Mal's face had closed up, assuming a dark look that she hadn't seen since Miranda. Only in his eyes could she see the turmoil within him. Wordlessly she gripped his hand, lacing her fingers with his. He looked down at their hands for a moment, then at her face. His features softened, some of the remembered pain washing out of his eyes.

As they got closer, ships begin to take form above the planet. Dozens of them.

In the centre of the pack was an older model, larger scale space station. Worn and battered, it still bore scars from the War. Clustered about it were a half dozen frigate type warships, all old and battered. Most also looked like they had laid on a scrapheap for the last few years.

Wash frowned, bent over the one display. "Say... wuh duh ma huh duh fong kwong duh wais hung! That's the _Wolves Dancer_!"

Mal followed his gaze, to the heaviest ship in the group. It was a lean light cruiser, one of only a few ever built. Small enough to be mistaken for an overweight frigate, few who made that mistake lived to regret it. This craft had a snarling wolf head painted on the bow, with markings along the flanks in the form of lines and dots.

_Wolves Dancer _was a well known pirate ship. Formerly the cruiser _Defiance _of the Independents Navy, its crew had refused the order to stand down and had fled into the black. She had returned two months later, and had been preying on Alliance convoys and installations ever since. Not all their raids were that of a traditional pirate though. Often they had hit installations on core planets on foot, then scurried back to their ship before heading out.

Despite Alliance declarations, to the people of the outer planets the _Wolves Dancer _had become a folk hero. The crew often traded their spoils for supplies and fuel, often through a third party. Since the war, the crew had shifted to be almost completely of ancient American Indian descent, and that hey had marked their ship just like the warriors of those long-ago tribes had marked themselves and their gear.

They _had_ been confused with Reavers at a couple of points but the clean lines of the ship, as well as the neatness of the markings themselves, stopped the mistake being any more then transitory.

Looking over the other ships, Mal noted that they were nearly all freighters and transports, a few sporting jury-rigged weapons. It was a cross section of every craft that flew in the system. The majority were worn, beaten, their hulls showing the signs of hard living. The Alliance may pump out images of shiny new, clean ships, but this was reality. Dirt and grime, sweat and elbow grease.

Mal shook his head slowly. _'They really think that such a gathering can hope to topple the Alliance?'_ Despite everything, Mal was still sitting on the fence, reluctant to take up arms again.

Then his eyes drifted over to the one side, and he stiffened. There sat an Alliance Cruiser, with two Lancer class frigates and a large number of smaller craft in support.

"Oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan..." he muttered. Then he noticed something: The Alliance cruiser was still and quiet. Not a hail from it, nor any missiles. Just as significant, the _Wolves Dancer _was not firing either. As they flew closer though, Mal could see that the pirate cruisers main guns were pointed at the Alliance ship.

The comm crackled. _"Inbound firefly transport, identify yourself and your intentions."_

Wash tapped the controls. "Transport _Serenity_, requesting a docking vector for the station."

There was silence for a moment, then the controller came on again. _"Transport _Serenity,_ you are cleared for... what the wuh de ma is that!?!"_

Mal looked at the rear view screen, on a hunch. Sure enough, coming up fast from behind was none other than _Thunderchild_, intact and whole. A few blackened scars marred her prow, but otherwise she was unhurt.

As the image of the ship grew bigger by the second, Mal realised that she must be at full power, rather than crawling along like she had while following them.

Then his eyes caught something below and just behind the Colonial ship. He looked closer... and his blood ran cold. Besides him, Inara gasped as she too saw what it was that was being dragged in by the battlecruiser.

Held by thin looking lines, the ship that was being dragged in was black as space, the pale cables standing out. However, the Colonials had set up a number of floodlights that bathed the ship in light. To be honest though, Mal wished they hadn't, as the harsh light showed the horrific nature of the mutated ship in sharp relief. It also showed the damage inflicted onto it, including the gaping hole on one side.

Despite the damage and the oily black stuff that coated it, Mal was still able to recognise the ship design as the same as the operative's ships. The way her fingers dug into his arm showed that Inara did too.

The console toned, drawing their attention. Wash looked closely, then explained for the others.

"Two more ships, coming in fast, and I mean _fast._" He grinned, the motion and his words revealing just 'who' those ships were.

It was so precise and cinematic it might have been choreographed. As _Thunderchild _slowed down, two darts rushed in from each flank. Passing each other with bare meters to spare, the two destroyers decelerated as they turned, slowing down to match their larger consort, pacing alongside her. So precise were the manoeuvres that both destroyers settled into perfectly equal distances from their consort.

Wash settled _Serenity _back into her spot, just behind and below _Thunderchild_'s prow, as a hail went out from the battlecruiser that now dominated the gathering of ships.

"_People of this system, we heard you were gathering here to form a new rebellion against the Alliance Government. We also heard about how many feared the Alliance's wrath. Now we bring proof that the Alliance must fall, and soon, before more terrible crimes are committed."_

X-X-X-X-X-X

Harken shivered slightly as he followed Achilles into the bowels of his ship. His motion had nothing to do with the temperature, which was pleasantly cool. More it was the feeling of the ship around him... and what he was going to be a part of ahead.

When he'd heard that the Colonial vessel had captured some of the crew of the mutated ship, he'd demanded access to them. At first they told him that they would not be turned over to them, but then he'd explained that he wanted to interrogate them himself, in relation to the destruction of an Alliance fleet. While they had still refused to turn them over to his crew, he was allowed to sit in on the questionings. He was not permitted to fly his ship direct to _Thunderchild _however; the last time an Alliance craft landed on her under a flag of truce, it had been packed to the gills with a murderous boarding party.

So he'd flown over to the skyplex, and was picked up by none other than _Serenity_, captained by Malcolm Reynolds. The irony was not lost on him.

However, when they landed in the battlecruiser's bay, the sheer scale and power of the ship became clear. He'd barely been able to prevent himself from gaping at the row of sleek, deadly looking fighters that rested nearby and the yawning opening that the transport had entered via. The look of the ship was primitive, but it had quickly become clear that what was underneath was anything but.

The interior of the ship was dimmer than his own, but it wasn't dark. He had to admit, it _was _easier on the eyes. He had reset his personal quarters to have a lower level of light than the rest of the ship.

The Colonial ship _did _feel oppressive to Harken, but then many of the cabins on his ship had been made very light and airy, with high vaulted decks. It was wasted space, he knew, but sometimes it was nice to know you had space to spare.

The Colonials had also built their decks with high ceilings, though not as high as the Alliance. The main difference was that here the bulkheads were straight, not bowed outwards. Hatches were solid sheets instead of glass panelled. And everywhere they went there was a faint rumble in the background. The cruiser he commanded had no such background noise.

They passed through a double hatch, more like an airlock really, as the second hatch would not open until the first one was closed. Stepping through, a pair of Colonial warriors stood each side of the hatch, eyes forward. A third was sat behind a small desk in an alcove to one side.

Wordlessly the Colonial Colonel, Achilles, led the varied group down the passageway. The hatches they passed were quite different from the others on the ship. They were clear for one, with a regular pattern of circular holes cut into them. Harken looked as closely as he could. Those holes looked too small for a hand... his eyes wandered to the pistol holstered at Achilles hip. The barrel of their weapons would fit however, he realised, but not the grip.

They stopped before one such cell. Inside, stretched out on the bunk bed on the far side of the spacious cell, was a man wearing a black version of an Alliance uniform. His head was turned towards the wall.

"Stand to." Achilles called into the cell. "We want to talk." He paused for a moment and then went on when the man didn't respond. "Lieutenant Fargo of Nightbringer four."

The man twitched, his one visible hand curling into a fist, as Achilles went on.

"First officer in fact, under the command of captain Tyn-Sing. Five years service, three in a Lancer frigate as an ensign, then until six months ago a junior lieutenant on board a Unity class cruiser, the _Principle_." Harken stiffened slightly. That had been one of the cruisers that mutated ship had destroyed. "How did if feel, Fargo, to know that your old ship was one of the ones you were tasked to destroy?"

That got a reaction, as Fargo's head snapped around the stare at them. Harken was shocked to see that Fargo's left eye had been replaced with a machine, the unblinking eye of a camera looking back at him. A good section of his left temple was also covered by the metal, and likely replaced too.

Fargo stood up and walked over to a mirror position of Achilles, glaring all the while. "So, you can actually read." He sneered.

"Your computers were quite easy to crack." Achilles tipped his head to one side. "What I really what to know from you though, is why you do what you do. Butchering your own ships, massacring towns, kidnapping of young women..."

Fargo looked down his long, sharp nose. "It should be pretty obvious, shouldn't it? To someone with such knowledge." The sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Why don't you spell it out for us, just to see if what we think matches what you think?" Achilles countered, eyes narrowed.

A dry, mirthless laugh. "When there is a cancer, do your doctors not cut it out?"

"Been a while since we had that problem much." Achilles mused. "But yes, they do when the situation warrants such drastic measures."

"That is what we are; the scalpel that slices away the unneeded, the wasteful, the diseased. You..." Fargo raised a finger to point at each of the independent and smuggler captains. "...are a cancer on the Alliance. Ridding ourselves of you is for the good of the entire human race."

"Hate to break it to ya kid," Mal interrupted. "But there's more systems out there with humans living in them."

Fargo just looked at him with pity. "Then we will bring them into the fold of the Alliance, pruning what needs to go, of course."

"And if those folk don't want to be part of the Alliance?" Mal fired back.

"They have no choice." Fargo's words and tone were final. "The Alliance is true Civilisation. Why would anyone wish to remain apart from it?" His tone turned curious, confused.

"So me and mine have to just lay down and die so you can live a in a perfect world?" Mal snarled.

Fargo shrugged. "I won't live there. I do what must be done to preserve the human race's purity."

"Purity." Achilles spoke softly. "How does one define purity in regard to a civilisation?"

"It is so simple, I find myself shocked that I have to explain it to you." Fargo sneered. "Purity is achieved when everyone thinks along the same lines, a single religion binds everyone, where people are all equal within their levels, where wrong thinking is non-existent. Where there is a singular purpose that brings everyone together."

Achilles was silent, and Harken noted that the other Colonials looked grim and a little shocked.

At last he spoke. "We've already encountered a civilisation like that. Problem is, it's 'singular purpose' is to wipe out all of mankind." He paused for a moment, tilting his head the other way. "Oh, and they were a machine race too." He tapped his chin as Fargo laughed. "But all that still doesn't explain the kidnapping, nor the destruction of your own ships..."

"The regular navy?" Scorn filled Fargo's voice as he glared at Harken. "Bunch of worthless plods. Good only for clean up and putting forwards a clean face."

"I can see that may be difficult for you..." Mal commented. Fargo's face flushed with anger, but he didn't rise to the verbal barb.

"And the kidnapping?" Achilles asked again. "You snatched them in their sleep, drugged them up and locked them away in a hold, bound to the walls." He frowned. "Can't have been for the crew's pleasure..." The female Colonial captain, as well as Fairchild, shuddered. "...And the ship's systems were pumping drugs into them, not out..." Achilles fell silent, then looked up sharply. "Of course. The Troopers. You took them to act as breeding stock."

"Nothing so crude." Fargo sneered disdainfully. "While regretfully the female womb is needed in the early stages, they are not required to carry the troopers to term. And who knows, trawling through the genetic codes of all these subjects may just pan out something of value, much like one such girl I heard about, who escaped almost two years ago. Pity, her genetics are the most praised."

"I'll be sure to tell River you said that." Mal commented. "She might decide to give you a demonstration why that is."

"I'd rather she didn't." Achilles looked at Mal, a sad smile on his lips. "For the moment, I need this... _person_'s, head attached to his body." He looked at Fargo again. "Although... I suppose he has no use for his arms and legs."

Fargo lost most of his bluster. "You can't threaten me like this! I am a prisoner of war! I have rights!"

"Wrong." Achilles stepped forward, nose almost to the clear divider. "I'll tell you something about my home planet. Back there, we believed in a justice system that was based on the phrase 'an eye for an eye'. 'You reap what you sow' also applies. You lost any claim to such rights when you took them from the people you murdered and kidnapped. You live unharmed right now on my whims alone. Were I to let it be known that I don't care about what happens to you... well, I don't know which way you'd go. The airlock is harsher, but we're closer to the Tylium energisers. Of course, you might not even arrive at either in one piece.

"What you and your government has done sickens us all. It is not Just, or for the 'benefit of mankind'. It's all about power, controlling people. 'The Ends Justify The Means' is not a valid excuse, never has been, never will be." He shook his head. "When we first came here, we hoped we could negotiate, with a government that was not as bad as a biased view painted it as." He glanced apologetically at Mal, who just shrugged.

"But what do we find? A government of nightmares, run by demons in human clothes. No, the Alliance is going down. My only concern now is how to stop it taking as many innocent people with it as it can."

Harken looked at Achilles with new found respect. The man was an idealist, but also appeared to be pragmatic. And if what Harken had seen of his ship was anything to go by, he had the means to back up his ideals.

Even without this, Harken knew he had seen too much to ignore. No, he had some long, hard thinking to do...

* * *

**O'Neill: **I'm really not liking that guy... (*eyes narrowed*)

**Hermione: **He's a foul, loathsome evil little cockroach!

**Leena: **(*looked at Hermione*) Well said.

**DR: **Feel free to wish grevious bodliy harm to Fargo. Next time, we see various people's reactions to what they've seen and heard here... stay tuned.


	25. Troubled Minds

**DR: **Glad to see that eveyone didn't like the captured officer. Now she see how others react to what they now know...

* * *

Chapter 25: Troubled Minds

Boomer watched silently as Starbuck sat and chatted with a collection of pilots from the still growing 'rebel' fleet. Achilles had invited a few members of each ship to come aboard, to plan their offensive. Right now the captains were dining together in the officers' mess, while the pilots and lower ranked 'officers' were gathered in the pilots' club. Achilles had spoken with his officers before the guests arrived. He asked that they gauge the 'rebels', see if they can find out just what kind of people they were. He didn't want to topple one regime just to install another in its place.

So far, most of the people in this 'fleet' were criminals, looking to stick it to the law for once. The hungry gleam in their eyes as they were led through the battlecruiser showed just how far their consciousnesses went. They could only be trusted while the Alliance was a threat. Afterwards, they would grab what they could, likely at gun point and without a care for those they robbed.

But, within the feldercarb were some decent folk. The two from the _Wolves Dancer_, for instance, were coming across as honest people, at heart. The Alliance labelled them as murderous pirates, but they thought themselves as freedom fighters, robbing the cruel rich and giving to the decent, helpless poor, just like a heroic figure from an old Earth folklore tale. And while they were not quite as pure as they liked to think they were, they were certainly better than the other sort.

The Alliance crews were not in the gathering however. They were back on their own ships, likely trying to come to terms with what they had found out about their own side. Boomer still felt a shiver run down his spine as he recalled his own experience on board the captured 'Nightbringer' cruiser. The organic technology ran throughout the ship, and looked like it had been built into the very fabric of it.

Fortunately, the systems still used standard mechanical interface ports, so the Colonial crews were able to extract data from the core. It was a slow process, as there was encryption in place that had to be broken, but the data was coming.

Most of it, Boomer knew, would not go past Achilles' eyes, plus a few select others. But Boomer was fine with that. He was a Colonial Warrior first and foremost. When Achilles decided what had to be done, the warriors would do.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Commander Harken stared out of the window, his eyes fixed on the dark form of the... vessel. He couldn't bring himself to think of it as a ship, built by the government he had sworn to uphold. Even half destroyed, it extruded threat and menace.

Slowly he brought the glass in his hand to his lips, taking another swig of the brandy within. His jacket was draped over the back of his chair, the insignia of the Alliance in his other hand. As the warm fire of the alcohol ran down his throat, he brought the insignia up, studying it.

As he looked at the silver emblem his thoughts went back to where he had seen the same image earlier...within the Nightbringer. A shiver ran down his spine as he saw once more the off white image on the dark painted metal, while just to the left of the image was an outgrowth of the organic material. A bio-conduit ran up in the nook between the panel and a support beam, looking more like a blood vessel then anything else. From where the conduit was pressed against the metal plate there were growths that spread across the metal with fine tendrils and spreading roots, the paint underneath bubbling and pealing as the panel warped slightly.

The exposed circuits and systems – those still intact – were nightmare combinations of wires, circuits and organic feeds. Those which had burnt out were little more than blackened lumps of charred flesh with half melted wires and circuits jutting out like bones. The smell... Harken had had trouble controlling his stomach, and this was after a year of chasing down and cleaning up after Reaver attacks.

The door chime sounded. He ignored it, not wanting to be disturbed. After a few moments, it sounded again. And then again.

Sighing in frustration, Harken tapped the intercom. "I thought I said no interruptions."

"_Tom, it's me."_

The use of his first name stunned Harken for a moment, before he tapped the hatch release. A second later it hissed open quietly, and Commander Fairchild stepped in.

As she stepped over to slump into the chair across from his, Harken noted that her normal aloft confidence was absent. Her eyes were dark with horror, and her face more pale than normal. Wordlessly he poured her a tall glass of brandy and pushed it across the desk to her. Wordlessly she took the glass and took a long drink.

"I still can't believe it." She said once she had brought the glass down into her lap. Her eyes were also fixed there. "I saw it, I know they couldn't have faked it... but I still can't believe it."

Harken nodded, gesturing to the report slates scattered on the desk. "The logs are even worse. Everything they did, every strike, every... murder, is detailed in there. Damn the cold hearted hwoon dahns!"

Fairchild nodded slowly, her smooth face creasing as she scowled. "That lieutenant... he didn't even care! I mean... every time we put down a Reaver ship, I couldn't help but remember that once they were normal, ordinary people. I felt... guilt, at killing them, even though it was more akin to putting down a rabid dog. But that... _monster_, acted like he had been killing ants! He was more furious about being caught!" She took another long drink to steady herself.

Harken turned as he too drank again, to once more look out the window. Only this time his eyes settled not on the twisted hulk of the Nightbringer, but on the ship that had killed it. _Thunderchild._

"You know what's going to happen now..." He said quietly.

Behind him, Fairchild nodded slowly.

"Yes. Another civil war." She answered almost in a whisper.

"I don't think there can be any doubt. Not when that _thing's..._" he pointed to the hulk of the Nightbringer "...existence is made public. Knowing what I know now, I have to wonder..." He trailed off. Fairchild looked at him curiously.

After several seconds, Harken went on. "...I have to wonder if we're on the wrong side."

Fairchild gasped. "Are you saying we should _defect?_"

"I'm saying we should take a long hard look at what we would be called on to fight for." Harken sank into his chair. "Angela... when I look at that ship..." his hand vaguely pointed towards the silent yet menacing battlecruiser. "...I see what we could be. I took a look at what records they have released. They had a unified system government that lasted over a _millennia_. There was no war of unification for them. According to the records, it happened over several years, the twelve words coming together."

"According to their records." The doubt was clear in her voice.

"I admit it does all hang on their word. But... they are not like the crew of _our own government's ship._"

Harken sighed as he sank back into his seat. He passed a hand over his eyes. "I have to ask myself, how can I support a government that uses ships like that, with crews like that?"

Angela Fairchild looked closely at her old friend, slightly shocked to see such self doubt in him. He'd always been the assured, confident one.

"Surely it can't be the whole government?" She asked quietly.

He looked up at her, eyes weary. "The orders were signed by the Minister of Security, counter-signed by the Director of Public Concern... and bear the Presidential Seal."

Angela paled. The Presidential Seal was an electronic 'watermark' that could be embedded into a document. The President himself was the only one who could do this. If the orders for that monster that borne The Seal... that meant that the President himself approved of the missions. Of the cold-blooded murder of hundreds of innocent people... She began to feel nauseous.

"Trouble is... I believe in the _Ideals_ of the Alliance. Of what the Alliance stands for. But now we met a coalition that embodies those ideals, and I see now the wrongness of our own system." He knocked back his drink before looking down into his other hand. "I still have nightmares you know. About what our side did during the war."

Angela nodded slowly. All those personnel with a conscience had their fair share of disquieting thoughts regarding some of the tactics used by the Alliance during the Unity War. Nerve gas attacks on towns and encampments. Biological warheads that had left lethal diseases to this day. Whole towns had been wiped out from orbit, pummelled with missiles. It had been part of a brutal campaign to break the Independents' spirits.

Many had shrugged it off, saying that they would never have used such tactics. But for those who aspired to the ideals, who tried to be honourable and fair, it left a sour taste in the mouth. Some buried themselves in the jobs, others drank.

Slowly Angela stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out at the gathered ships. It was the most ramshackle fleet she had ever seen. Freighters and transports of all sizes and types. Many were worn and battered, the result of a lifetime spent hauling supplies and people between planets. Long range fighters and escort craft flitted between the larger vessels.

At the centre however were some very tough ships. The _Wolves Dancer _was a well known predator of Alliance shipping. She had engaged that ship several times in the simulators and, even before she had hacked the system and removed the limiters imposed on it, had been very impressed with its strengths. It was surprisingly fast and agile, with a deadly armament.

However, when compared to the ship it now idled alongside, it was like a jury rigged tramp freighter. The titanic Colonial vessel dwarfed everything else in the region. Its lean, sleek form suggested great speed, while the sheer size hinted at great power and strength. From the battle recordings they had been given from the lost _Justice _she knew that it carried deadly weaponry: she'd seen some of the damage inflicted up close.

Unbidden, her eyes drifted to the twisted black hulk a little separate from the other ships. A thread of anger and hatred began to coil in her gut as she looked at the twisted ship. Nine months after she had enrolled into the academy, she had been due some leave. Then, two days before, the news had come in that her home town had been destroyed.

Nothing had been left of the town. Just a glass faced crater.

The news services had stated that the attack was a terrorist strike by remaining Independent rebels. While her training had given her the belief that such rebels _would _nuke a town, she also knew that her home town would not have been a target. It had supported the Independents cause. The only thing the townsfolk could have done wrong was that when the Alliance troops rolled in they had surrendered without a fight. The reasons were clear and obvious.

Since then, she'd thrown herself into her training, but once she got out she had requested posts that put her out hunting pirates, Reavers and other such threats.

Now though, she had to wonder if it had not been rebels at all... but rather one of those ships...

Her eyes hard, she faced Harken once again. "Tom, you're right."

He looked up at her, blurry-eyed. "'Bout what?" He asked.

"We are on the wrong side." She stated, swiftly yanking the Alliance symbol from her uniform and tossing it onto the table.

Harken looked at the insignia for a long moment, then back at her. Smiling, he tossed his own onto the table next to hers.

"We'll have to give our crews the choice." He remarked.

Angela shrugged. "After what that ship did to the _Justice_, I doubt there'd be many who'll stick with the Alliance."

X-X-X-X-X-X

They were all gathered around the table once more, dark and worried expressions on all their faces. Mal stood with his back to the forward passageway. _Serenity _herself was once again resting in one of _Thunderchild_'s landing bays. The even lighting grid above appeared almost like stars through the windows. Not that any of them really noticed.

"You've all seen it." Mal started. "What the Alliance has created. Am I alone in thinking that this is only the first step?"

Everyone looked at each other, not speaking, for a long moment. Finally Zoe spoke. "No."

Mal nodded. "Way I see it, we have two choices. We can either ignore it, carry on with our lives, maybe go back to our friends on Zi. We've done what we set out to do."

Mal paused for a moment to take a breath.

"Or, we stay. I know Achilles will stay and fight. Question is, do we?"

Wash looked around the group, eyes wide. "Mal, not to raise a sour point, but you've always said the War was over. Now you're saying we fight it again?"

"Achilles is still new here." Jayne put in. "He's going to have trouble getting help from the locals. He'll need some help convincing them to fight by his rules."

"Now if it was just us..." Mal sighed. "...But it ain't. There's several hundred in this boat, and millions more out there at stake."

Silence fell for a moment. Then Inara spoke.

"If we run the Alliance might win, and will use the technology of the Colonials to dominate the galaxy. If we fight and lose... they'll likely kill us."

"They probably will at that." Mal replied, seeing in her eyes the other possible fate for the women, both in his crew and Achilles. Neither of them would say it our loud though. "I'm the captain of this boat, but you can always get off here. So the choice is yours."

No-one spoke for a few seconds, thinking.

"I say fight." Zoe stated first.

Wash nodded slowly. "Fight."

"Fight." That was Jayne, as serious as he had ever been.

Simon's face was hard. "Fight."

"Fight." Kaylee wore an expression no-one had ever seen on her face before: it was hard edged determination.

"Fight." River's tone was laced with suppressed anger, waiting to be unleashed.

Inara turned her head to look at Mal. "Fight." She intoned firmly, a challenge flickering in her dark hazel eyes.

There was a faint shimmering and the sleek form of Ghost appeared amongst the gathered crew of the Serenity, silent as always. Everyone eyed the reptilian organoid for a long moment as Mal held its gaze, then Ghost rose higher on his toes and spoke, his voice echoing around the silent room. **"Fight."**

Mal looked at them all, a small smile at the corners of his mouth. "Fight."

* * *

**Zeke: **Oh yay! Let's get ready to rumble!

**DR: **The time of justice is coming. Next week, two more old Colonial veterans arrive, bringing with them some serious pieces of hardware...

**O'Neill:** You got that right!


	26. Old Friends and New Toys

**DR: **Well, it's that time again. I know that you're all champing at the bit to see the Alliance get what it deserves...

**Sheppard: **You're damn right we are!

**DR: **... But I promise that it won't be long now. Just a couple more things to set into place...

* * *

Chapter 26: Old Friends and New Toys

"The Alliance fleet is vast! How can you expect us to stand against them?"

"This ship could easily..."

"So why are we needed then? _If_ this ship can handle the Alliance alone, and I seriously doubt that, why should we risk our necks?"

"It's the principle! By having us there, it shows that it's not just them!"

Achilles sighed quietly as the argument began another round. He'd brought the various ship captains on board to discuss tactics and goals, but so far there had not been any accord. At least half of these men were thuggish, brutal men, hardened by years of crime and skulduggery. The others were mainly honest traders and haulers, hit hard by Alliance reforms and all but banished to the rim. Pirates, smugglers, traders, mercenaries and merchants, all bound together by their disgust for the Alliance.

And all unable to get past their distrust of each other.

He looked over towards the commander of the _Wolves Dancer_, who had arrived promptly to his summons. Unlike the others, he hadn't complained about being summoned; in fact, he'd acted like he'd expected it. So far he'd remained mostly silent, watching the others. In contrast to them his skin tone was a darker reddish brown, and he wore his hair long and tied back.

The next seat contained a very uncomfortable looking Commander Harken, captain of the Alliance made Unity class ship that was sat nearby. Achilles had been pleasantly surprised when he had received a call from him, asking if he would allow former Alliance personal and ships to fight alongside his own. That revelation had not gone down well with the other captains at all.

As he watched the others bicker, Achilles wondered if he could come up with a reasonable enough excuse to slip out...

The ships comm clicked. _"Colonel Achilles to the bridge."_

As the others sat silently, started at the interruption, Achilles reached for the nearest comm. "Achilles here. What's the problem?" He asked sternly.

"_Sir, we have seven unknown contacts closing fast."_

"Alliance?"

"_Negative sir. Speed and power readings too high."_

Achilles didn't waste a moment. "Sound the alert. I'm coming up."

Even before he reached the hatch the alert klaxon began to sound, the lighting circuits pitching the ships interior into a dim red light to conserve power.

"Hey, what about us?"

Achilles paused at the hatch, looking back at the captains. Most were half out of their chairs, fear clear across their faces. Commander Harken looked tense, clearly having picked up on the worried tones that had come across the comm. Commander Whiteback however was as impassive as before, but like Harken he was stood at a ready stance.

"I have taken this ship to a combat alert stance until such time as we can identify the incoming ships. Hopefully, they will be more of our ships. However, I must ask you all to remain here for the moment." He paused, his eyes on the two commanders. "Commander Harken, Commander Whiteback, please accompany me." He strode out as he others began to protest: he'd already wasted enough time.

It took less than two minutes to reach the bridge, by which time the ship was ready for combat. Leaving the two guests to look about in awe at the expansive chamber, Achilles plunged into the centre towards his command pedestal. "Report!" He bellowed as he stepped up onto the top.

"Sir, we have seven discreet contacts closing at high speed, beyond that allowed by current Alliance technology. Size, mass and power readings of six of them consistent with... Cylon heavy gunships sir."

A rippled of tension ran round the bridge, strong enough that even Harken noticed. He looked at Whiteback, who looked back, shrugging his shoulders fractionally.

Back in the centre of the bridge Achilles forced the bile that had risen back down his throat. "Form scan?"

"Not in range yet sir. Two minutes to effective range."

Achilles frowned. "Stand by to launch fighters, on my order only."

The next two minutes crawled by, with the sensor officer calling out the range as it decreased. As he was still using the Colonial measurements, Harken could not get a feel for the range. But it was ominous at how the range was decreasing so quickly...

"Entering form scan range... scan in progress... Warbook has no match... Wait… Sir, Warbook says we have a _Colonial_ military Freighter!"

"Sir! We're receiving a transmission!" The comms operator called out.

"Patch it through!" Achilles snapped, his eyes jumping between the form scan image and the screen. _'Elements of those new craft look Colonial, but why have they got a freight...'_

Then the image came on, and the face that was displayed brought all his thoughts to a halt. "Apollo!?!"

The image of Apollo smiled. _"Hello Achilles. Staying on your toes?"_

Achilles breathed out. "Yes, now. You just had to drop in unannounced, didn't you?"

"_Couldn't risk anyone listening in knowing about us yet. From what your report you sent back said, things are coming to a head in this system."_

"Very true Apollo, unfortunately. You are most welcome. Though how did you manage to persuade Sheba to let you come? I thought she wasn't letting you out of her sights for anything."

On the screen Apollo grinned before leaning to one side. Entering the frame from the other side came Sheba's head, a mischievous spark in her eyes. _"Who said I let him out of my sight?" _She asked cheekily.

Achilles smiled himself. "Should have guessed." He turned away from the screen to address his bridge crew. "All hands, stand down. Prepare both landing bays for arrivals." He looked at the screen again. "You're cleared for both landing bays. We'll meet you two in Alpha bay."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal watched closely as the three new craft eased into the landing bay. To his eye, these boats were clearly combat craft, and mean examples of such.

Overall, they were about two-thirds the size of _Serenity_. Mal eyeballed them as having two decks, with the cockpit on the upper one. As he watched them drift into their landing zones, Mal couldn't help but notice how the craft had a very similar design to the battlestars... or the _Thunderchild._

They had blunted, arrowhead noses, with an extra wedge on the top face that enclosed the cockpit. Near the back of the prow four sections stood proud on the dorsal and ventral surfaces, two to each surface, and each one supporting a minimalist twin turret. From the upper rear of the prow a narrow hull ran back before flaring out into the engine section. On the leading edges of the stern – again mounted one dorsal, one ventral – were two much larger twin turrets.

From the narrow hull thick 'wings' extended, angling downwards in an arc very similar to that of _Thunderchild_'s own, before ending in very flat, narrow outrider pods. Mal couldn't see any reason for their presence except aesthetics, but then again the Colonials _never _built their ships for aesthetics. There had to be a reason, and Mal was sure it had something to do with the laser barrels that poked out of the front ends. They were mismatched, a single, large barrel emerging from the top face, and twin, smaller barrels from the lower.

Triangular wings, very much like those on the Vipers, emerged from the outside of the pods. Mal squinted as he looked closely. It appeared that the edges of the fins matched up with the edges of the main wing sections. Twin smaller fins were mounted on each side of the stern, angled apart. The whole craft was painted in the same style as the Vipers; an off-white base with stripe markings. These craft carried dark grey stripes, making a sharp contrast to the white.

As they settled down, long skids extended from the side pods, taking the weight of the heavy looking craft with the tips of the wings just clear of the deck.

As ever with a craft of any size, there were several seconds after the craft had landed where it appeared that nothing was happening. Then a ramp tilted down from the lower half of the prow's rear face, and the sound of boots could be heard.

Kaylee smiled brightly and walked quickly over to the craft with a prominent '1' painted on the side as the two figures stepped out from underneath the craft. "Sheba!" She called before wrapping the older woman in a hug, which Sheba returned. Mal meanwhile walked over to greet Apollo.

"Major." He said holding his hand out.

"Captain Reynolds." Apollo replied with an easy smile as he took Mal's wrist Colonial style. Mal looked up at the craft besides them.

"Nice boat you have now. Though I thought you'd be flying the _Freedom._" He said, referring to the gunship that Apollo had flown in the Cylon Assault.

Apollo sighed. "She was a good ship, but her hull was too thin, the systems rushed. The engineers found stress fractures forming at the wing roots." Apollo shrugged. "It was decided to retire her and create a new class of gunship, built from the start with Colonial materials and technology..." He trailed off as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came from behind Mal. Mal quickly stepped to one side, guessing who would be approaching that quickly.

He was right, as Athena all but stormed through the space he had vacated to wrap her brother up in a tight hug. "It's so good to see you!" She half squealed in joy.

Over the next few minutes others joined the reunion. Starbuck chuckling and grinning, Boomer quietly happy, Inara graceful as ever. Sheba pulled Athena and Inara off to one side a little way through, and both Apollo and Mal looked at them, then at each other. A slow nod passed between them. They could guess what the women were talking about.

Achilles arrived at that moment. After greeting Apollo, he looked over at the three women, then looked back at the other two. "They're talking about us, aren't they?"

"I'd say it is a fair bet." Mal answered as the three women all giggled together, Inara throwing a furtive glance towards Mal as Kaylee joined the huddle

"We're in trouble now." Apollo spoke for all thee of them.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Athena strode through the passageways of _Thunderchild_, anticipation dancing in her gut. Achilles had invited her to dine with him this evening, in his quarters, while they went over her report. While his words themselves had been plain and quite free of any form of innuendo, there had been a slight tilt to his head, a dancing spark in his eye that had told her that he intended to go over other things then the report of her engagement with the Reavers.

The result was that she had been divided about what to wear. For any formal encounter, such as his _words _said, she would have worn her uniform. But his _expression _and _unspoken _message suggested something more... intimate.

In the end, she'd decided to trust her instincts and gone with a flowing white dress, her favourite. It had made a few eyebrows rise when she exited the shuttle she had flown across between the ships, but she had seen the slight smile on the various faces. Both crews approved.

She came to a stop before the hatch to his quarters, taking a moment to check that the dress was seated correctly. Like many Colonial fashion designs, her arms were completely bare, with a long, full skirt leading up into a semi tight body. As she reached for the announcer, she was certain that Achilles would be able to hear her heart hammering beneath her breast.

"Enter." Achilles voice came from within after the sound of the chime faded. Tapping the release, she stepped inside...

...And smiled when she saw that his desk had been transformed into a candlelit dinner for two. The main lights were low, allowing the softly burning candles to become the primary source of light. Achilles stood at the near end, neatly dressed. He smiled warmly as he looked at her.

"Truly, you are a goddess."

Athena felt her face flush slightly. "Thank you." She followed his gesture to the seat before the desk turned table. After he had pushed her chair in for her, he stepped around to seat himself. She looked once more at the desk. "So why are we using your desk instead of having a proper table brought in?" She asked lightly.

Achilles smiled as he sat. "Unlike your fathers old ship, we don't have the space to store such rarely used items. Besides..." He slid his arm across the space between them, resting his hand over her own. "...I think this is actually better than a formal table."

Athena smiled warmly as he squeezed her hand for a moment before letting go to serve the meal.

As they ate, they talked about a few things concerning the Alliance, and their encounters during their time in this system. He congratulated her on her intercession with the Reavers, while she commented on his tack with the various elements in the system. They also went over the details of the Darkstar class gunship, which Apollo had flown in earlier that day. Those six small craft were a major investment of firepower, and already Achilles was working on ways to include them in his possible battle plans.

Athena had to admit, the Darkstar _was _an impressive design. She had not mentioned it at the time, but the _Freedom _had never 'felt' right to her. The Darkstar however followed Colonial design, and fitted a lot of equipment into its tight hull. One of the tricks used had been to implement some Zoidian technology into the craft, mainly into the fire-control systems, removing the need for gunners. With a crew of only two, the Darkstar's had been designed for long range patrols, close escort of warships, freighters and Viper-Bombers, 'Raider' style attacks and exploration. With their array of powerful lasers they had the teeth to defend themselves quite handsomely, while the variable bays in the prow allowed them to carry a payload of Solonite missiles or sensor packages, depending on the mission.

As the evening went on, they drifted to the long low seats beneath the wide porthole, a glass of ambrosia in their hands. Time drifted by as they sat there, her shoulder tucked under his arm, with her legs across his lap. Their talk had drifted away from the Alliance and their current concerns to their hopes and dreams. They had started having these kinds of talks while he was recuperating from his injuries after the Cylon assault. They both knew that this easy familiarity between them showed how strong their bond was.

As they had talked, Achilles had slowly stroked her arm and side, gradually taking longer and slower strokes. Athena recognised it as a part of the classic Scorpio seduction; slow but relentless, a gradual building of passion that was almost as delicious as the final act itself. It had become a game to them. He would use nothing more than his touch on the outside of her clothing to try to stop her continuing the conversation. Under the rules that neither of them had spoken of but both knew were there, he had to be fully engaged in the conversation, while she could not do anything to stop him from trying to seduce her.

Even as her mind focused on the sensations that Achilles was inducing in her through his touch her mouth continued to bring forth words in a meaningful way...that is until his hand just brushed the side of her breast, and her mounting passion jumped forward and demanded attention. She was cut off mid word to exhale a purr of pleasure.

Achilles, smiling in triumph, bent over her slightly to capture her mouth with his. Athena allowed her eyes to fall closed as his hand slid up over her shoulder blade to use a feather light touch on her jaw. He always won in the end. It was a part of his psyche. He had to win, but it would be meaningless if she didn't put up a fight. To be fair though, this was one contest that Athena didn't mind losing at all.

'_Although...' _she mused to herself as she felt his nimble fingers start to undo the fasteners of her dress _'...there is a certain thrill to drawing it out as long as possible.'_

_

* * *

_**DR: **And that's our que to leave them alone.

**Jayne: ***glazed look*...I'll be in my bunk. *walks away quickly*

*Everyone watches him leave*

**Harry: **Too much infomation...

**Hermione: **I agree.

**Teal'c: **Indeed.

**DR: **Right, well... One more chapter, and then we start the retribution...*evil grin*


	27. Setting the Stage

**Zeke: **You're looking a little grumpy this morning DR...

**DR: **Gee, I wonder why...

**Zeke: **Huh?

**DR: **Take a look around...

(Zeke looks around the room. Harry and Hermione are making out on a sofa. Kaylee's curled up on Simon's lap. Another sofa contains O'Neill and Carter at one end, Sheppard and Weir at the other and Teyla and Ronon in the centre. Mal and Inara are in one corner, while Brad and Naomi are in another. Vega and Miranda are in another sofa chair, while further back are Athena and Achilles)

**DR: **Bit, Leena, Leon, Sarah, Van, Fiona, Raven and Resse are all upstairs in their rooms, doing more than 'Making Out' I reckon. Apollo took his new gunship into orbit, taking Sheba with him. Jaina's done the same with Jag, using her fathers ship, and I'm pretty sure I spotted Jacen being dragged onboard by Danni. Heck, even the cars are getting some!

(Draws back curtain to reveal Lightning and Sally parked beneath a tree, bumper to bumper)

**DR: **Now, why do you think I'm a little grumpy?

**Zeke:**...

* * *

Chapter 27: Setting the Stage

"_The situation continues to deteriorate. All the outer planets and moons have descended into open revolt against the Unified Alliance Government, and several central planets are also blighted by rebellion." _Achilles sat, stone faced, as the clearly Alliance controlled reporter continued to speak. _"The government has declared that we are in a State of Emergency, and as a result have been forced to declare Martial Law, until this current crisis has ended._

"_Reports continue to come in of dissidents and looters attacking honest Alliance citizens and places of work, before fleeing into blackout zones before Federal Forces can arrest them. It is unknown at this time just how many people have been killed in these brutal attacks on civilisation."_

Achilles snorted. 'Spin Doctors' were the worst scum produced by politicians, in his opinion. The only things lower were traitors.

While it _was _true that several criminal elements were using the rebellion as a cover for their own criminal activities, they didn't know that Achilles would be after them too, once the Alliance fell. He smiled as he recalled the speech he'd given to the various crews of the assortment of ships that made up the 'Fleet' he was currently leading. He had explained, in no uncertain terms, that any ship or crew that committed acts of piracy, looting or kidnapping would be burned out of the sky by his own crew. The goal was to topple the top levels of the Alliance, not bring the entire system crashing down into anarchy. Several captains had protested, but Achilles was not swayed. If they were to fight alongside Colonial Warriors, they had to keep to the same standard and principles as them. Any who broke that trust, would face their wrath.

As a result, they had lost a few ships, but Achilles would not compromise on his morals. Nor would any of his crew.

Which was why he had ordered that a close watch be kept on all 'allied' ships, along with those who left before the fleet departed for Osiris.

His thoughts turned to Athena, prompting a sad smile to form on his face. They had only one night, and then their ships had parted ways again. The scientists had cracked the codes for the Nightbringers computer core, and all the data had spilled out. Including the location of the Alliance's secret base where the ships were built... and where they created their 'super' soldiers. While they had both wished to remain together a little – okay, a _lot _– longer, duty called. They had both known that their duties as Colonial Warriors would sometimes get in the way of their relationship.

After skimming over the data, both of them had been furious. Anger had burned like cold fire in their veins. They had quickly put together a strike against the site, with overwhelming firepower. The entire marine force was going, along with all their zoid support and both the _Rosetta_ and the _Phoenix_. _Serenity _was also going; River was singularly determined to extract revenge. Achilles had seen a copy of the examination report. He understood.

While his mind drifted, the reporter had continued to speak the Alliance scripted report. Achilles was only really watching it to see what his foes wanted people to think. Then the reported mentioned a 'fleet', which brought his attention back.

"_...continue to abound. The Minister of Security has issued a statement, saying 'that while a number of pirate ships are joining to together for a raid on Osiris, the rumours of a fleet are totally false. The Alliance fleet will destroy these straggling pirates with ease. Nevertheless, rumour mongers and dissents continue to spread false information in an attempt to destabilise our entire way of life'. The Minister of Public Concern has stated that these actions are 'an unprecedented assault on the values of our society' before urging anyone with information concern someone involved in such activities to come forward and speak to a member of the Federal Law Enforcement Division. 'By coming forward now, we can prevent the real threats from growing, while sorting out those who are no threat.'"_

Achilles shook his head as he cut off the feed, not so much at the actual words but the way they were spoken and delivered. On the surface they were perfectly reasonable, but they could be used by a regime to control, intimidate and monitor a people ruthlessly. And Achilles already had enough proof of this regime's ruthlessness and capacity for depravity.

The door chime sounded. "Enter." Achilles called.

The hatch slid open to reveal Apollo. Achilles stood to greet him.

"All settled in Major?" He asked as they clasped wrists.

Apollo shrugged. "Just about. But it seems so... quiet, without Hera." A pained look entered his eyes. "We decided to let the Blitz look after her while we're away."

Achilles nodded slowly. "She'll be okay Apollo. One more won't make much difference to their brood. Besides, their home is practically hallowed ground now." After they both were sat across the desk from each other, Achilles leaned forwards, resting his arms on the surface. "Have you read the reports I forwarded to you?"

Apollo nodded grimly. "Yes, we did. Sheba practically hit the hull when she was going over the integration of your officer captive." He shook his head slowly. "What those people did, what they intended..."

"I know. It sickens me too." Achilles sighed. "Athena's taken her ship, and the _Phoenix_, to put a stop to their plans. We can not afford the Alliance building more of those ships."

Apollo shivered. He'd felt a chill when he'd run through the battle log of the engagement with the Nightbringer. While not as dangerous as a Cylon ship of similar size, the Alliance craft could inflict a lot of damage. Against the unshielded, thin-hulled craft that anyone else in the system could put up... it didn't bear thinking about.

"That's partly why I decided to keep you and your gunships here, with us." Achilles continued. "We have information that the Alliance is gathering every ship it can over the capital world to form an armada to crush us." A small smile flickered at the corners of Achilles mouth. "I expect that any other Nightbringers will be shadowing that fleet, to ensure our destruction. If so, I plan to engage them directly, keeping them away from the rest of the fleet."

Apollo nodded. "We need them to give us legitimacy."

"Exactly. From what we gathered, I doubt they'll be able to handle your gunships very well." Achilles smiled now. "They are an impressive design."

Apollo grinned. "Fly much better than _Freedom _did too."

"And better armed." Achilles looked down at a reader he'd looked at before. "Four interchangeable pilot controlled weapon ports, four twin laser turrets, and a pair of turbolaser turrets. Plus the variable payload bays." He looked up at Apollo. "That's a lot of firepower at your control. Much more and you'll be commanding a warship like your sister."

Apollo chuckled along with Achilles. "Not for me. I'm best when I'm a pilot."

"Thinking about that, how'd Sheba get demoted to being a co-pilot?"

"She didn't. She volunteered to be mine during the evaluation period."

"Thought she already was yours."

"Hey!" The two old friends laughed in good humour. "Seriously, it's really only until we return home and make our report. Adama and Cain both agreed that having two experienced combat pilots in one craft would give the best evaluation."

Achilles nodded. "So once they're commissioned, you'll be flying one full time?"

"Most likely, while Sheba will return to her Viper. If they work out, the proposed plan is for this ship to get a half dozen, while both _Galactica _and _Pegasus _will get a full squadron of eighteen, as will the station for system defence and patrol.."

"Half the number of Vipers in a squadron I see." Achilles smirked. "How are those two ships doing anyway? Refits going well?"

Apollo grinned. "Nearly done when we left. _Galactica_'s a little ahead, but they should both be back in the fray within a couple of weeks. When complete, either one will be able to take on a Basestar with ease."

Achilles smiled. "And I suppose, as the head of all Fighter Operations, you insisted on them both having as many craft as could be squeezed into them?"

Apollo smiled. "Of course. Only this time, they will be loaded. Thanks to the factories Sire Masters put at our disposal we've been able to build a number of new Vipers. We're going to establish two more Viper-Bomber squadrons too, so we'll have one each for the station and the battlestars."

"About time." Achilles quipped. "The Cylons won't know what hit them, next time they come around."

Apollo grinned. "No, they won't." His grin faltered. "You really think they'll come back?"

"Don't you?" Achilles sighed. "They'll never stop hunting us Apollo. They've all but told us as such. I found the sudden Peace Treaty rather odd and suspicious, but I hoped that it was just my Scorpia heritage showing up again."

Apollo said nothing, conceding the point. He could still see the remembered pain and defeat in Achilles eyes.

"We'll be ready for them, next time."

Achilles looked up. "Oh, we will."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Above the capital world of Osiris, the supposed seat of the Alliance Government, a fleet of vessels gathered. They could be seen from the surface, a collection of jewels in the sky. But to those with long memories the sight stirred dark feelings. This was the largest gathering of ships since the height of the Unity War.

In the centre of the formation, five Judgement class cruisers idled. Stood at the forward command podium, the Admiral glared out into space, the riding crop he carried held tight at the small of his back.

An ensign approached. "Sir? The last two ships have arrived."

"At last..." the Admiral breathed. "Now we can finally crush those scum-blooded Browncoat rebels once and for all. Open a line to all ships."

As the crew prepared to broadcast his words, Admiral Koyotan made one last discreet check that his new rank insignia was at the correct position and angle; it would not be right for the new Chief of Staff to appear before his troops in a dishevelled state. As the light came on, he began.

"All ships, this is Admiral Koyotan. Our mission is paramount for the safety of the Alliance. The collection of rag-tag ships we face is small, composed of scum-sucking smugglers and the other dregs of the underclass. This attack is a last desperate gasp of defiance of an ignorant, misguided people. However, if they are permitted to strike at our capital, then our great and noble civilisation will be rocked and scarred. We can not let them destroy everything that has been built over the last ten years. Our goal is nothing less than the total destruction of every ship that has the audacity to oppose the Alliance's rule.

"There have been rumours of some of our own ships joining these scum. If this is true, then you are ordered to fire on those ships without mercy. Any ship which does not fire on the enemy will be considered a traitor to the Alliance, and will be dealt with there and then, with lethal force.

"Somehow, these maggots have acquired an old ship, likely an old colony craft, which makes a very convincing show of force using a fancy light show. But it is a toothless tiger. That ship is to be destroyed, regardless of the cost. The rebels have made it a symbol; destroy that symbol, and we will break them, forever.

"Now, all ships... break orbit and follow me to glorious victory!"

The five Judgements moved first, with the Unity's next. Over the next couple of seconds all the others began to move, creating a vast armada that slowly eased away from the planet, and headed out...

* * *

**DR: **All the pieces are in place now. The Alliance will begin to suffer... Galactic justice is coming....


	28. Storm of Revenge…

**DR: **This is it people, the Alliance is about to start getting it's butt kicked. You zoid fan's will love this bit...

* * *

Chapter 28: Storm of Revenge…

The lonely world of Meridina was listed in all Alliance charts and texts as an uninhabitable world, a black rock where the terraforming didn't hold. Formerly a dead husk lacking any kind of atmosphere, the failed terraforming attempt had left the small world with a thick cloud layer, under which life could not exist. Anyone even partly familiar with Earth's solar system would recognise the similarity with the planet known as Venus, despite Meridina having only half the mass of Earth or its inferno surfaced twin.

As with many things the Alliance controlled, the truth about Meridina was quite different.

The thick clouds were real, but under them was not an inferno from hell. Instead, there was a dry, dusty world, little life and few large bodies of water, but large amounts of resources.

It was not too surprising then that the Alliance would choose Meridina as the place to build a secret manufacturing concern and research centre. Additives had been seeded into the clouds at various levels to mess up the scanners of any ship in Alliance territory, reinforcing the story of a hostile world.

So confident in the ruse, the base beneath the clouds had no sensor systems to monitor the local area. Such systems also ran the risk of being picked up, prompting questions best left unasked.

This policy had worked. Until now.

Chief Scientist Tyrel smiled out over the open air construction bays outside the window. There were six large bays, and in each one rested a partly built Nightbringer. The latest was still little more than the metal skeleton, while the nearest was almost finished, the bio-armour half grown.

Scurrying around the ships, workers looked like ants next to the perfect ships. Tyrel chuckled to himself at the analogy. The workers looked even more like ants than normal humans would, since they had an extra set of bio-mechanical arms grafted to their backs. Created from the vats of harvested genetic material, the workers were ideal labourers. Silent, uncomplaining and tireless, obeying every instruction. It was all guaranteed, since the centres of their brains that acted as focuses for pride, competition and aggression had been removed by surgery, to make room for some select computer systems.

Resuming his walk to the farm on the 'east' side of the complex, he mentally ran through the experiments he had to do today. As he did, he barely noted a fresh batch of theta pattern units' march from the farm to the training facilities to the 'west'. The surgical cuts on their bodies were barely healed enough to prevent blood loss.

Not that Tyrel cared. To him and his colleagues, the beings they had created with their experiments were not worthy of concern. If one died in training, so what? A dozen more could be created inside of a week, and they would be ready to be trained up as instruments of the Alliance within a month after that.

Of more concern to him was that the subjects continued to attempt to struggle and resist. It caused much time and effort to be wasted, plus they had lost several promising foetuses through self inflicted injuries. They had taken to strapping the subjects down until the experimental being was born.

Tyrel wished they could have used artificial wombs, but the early stages of the cells' developments were incredibly delicate. They had managed, through genetic adaptation, to cut the vulnerable period down to ten weeks, but the foetuses were still delicate. They currently left them in the subjects for fifteen, after which they were stable enough to be transferred to precisely controlled nurture chambers where they could grow in a faster, more directed manner than if they had been left in the subjects.

Thinking about the subjects, Tyrel hoped that a fresh batch would be brought in soon by the active Nightbringers. The last batch had only been a couple weeks ago, but it was small, mostly either too young to fully use, or too old to handle the numbers needed. The wider selection of genetic material was a bonus, but they were getting quantity, not quality.

He looked down at his remote, scrolling through a number of records. He grimaced when he noted that the supply of Subject Tam-01's genetic code was low. Tam-01 had been one of the first subjects, over a year ago. In those early days, the scientists had worked on the subjects themselves, turning them into super-soldier assassins. The idea of harvesting their genetic material had come later, after that one had been broken out and escaped. They had taken samples, but not enough in Tyrel's opinion. Subject Tam-01's genetic code was the most precious they had. Though Carter-03's had promise, and...

He froze, turning around sharply. There was nobody behind him, and yet he had sudden had the feeling he was being watched. Shaking his head in frustration, he continued down the corridor.

Behind him, the air shimmered for a second, before an Organoid with a slight, black clad female perched on top appeared. The young woman gracefully stepped off the mecha-organic creatures back, her brown eyes hardened to stones as she glared after the scientist.

A faint growl, barely audible even to someone stood next to him, emerged from the Organoid's throat. However the girl wore an earpiece that picked up an inaudible section of the growl, and turned it into words. **"What upset you?"**

"He was thinking about me, about my _value _to his sick projects!"

The organoid noted how her slight hands were curled into claws, the tension in her limbs. **"Remember the mission. Did you get what we needed?"**

The Organoid's cold reasoning reached her own, and with a deep breath she released some of the tension. "Yea, I got it."

"**Then let's relay the data. Then we move to our positions." **Before he moved off though, the organoid looked straight at her. **"Afterwards, if you wish to bring justice to him and his colleagues, I will help. But NOT before."**

River Tam nodded. "Dong ma."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Tyrel sighed as he sank down behind his desk. "Are you sure about this?" He asked, holding a report in his hands.

"Yes, unfortunately." His colleague said. "The subjects are just not healing up as quickly as they have done in the past. If we pump any more drugs into them..." he trailed off.

Tyrel sighed again, in unspoken agreement. He looked at the report again. "What about the younger subjects? Could we not start using some of them instead?"

The technician frowned. "Maybe... some of them are more developed than others. Shall I set up a series of examinations to..."

His last words were drowned out however when several explosions resounded from outside. Both men dashed to the expansive windows in Tyrel's office that looked out over the entire complex. Smoke was rising from the southern sector... where the new ships were built.

"An accident?"

"Impossible. Workers don't make accidents." Tyrel refuted.

"Then what..." The answer came from the heavens, in the form of sharp red bolts that stabbed down from the clouds and slammed into the shipyard. Wherever the bolts hit, there were large explosions. In the four-tenths gravity outside the areas of the complex that the scientists used, debris from those explosions was thrown high into the air to fall back down ever so slowly. Tyrel's eyes widened when he saw lumps of dark material, some still with warped metal attached, sailing through the air.

"No! They're destroying the Nightbringers!" Tyrel wailed.

"Not just them..." The technician replied, pointing a little to the right of the besieged shipyards. Dark columns of smoke rose from the western sector, the training centre, too. Even as they watched, another brace of bolts blasted down from above, ripping apart another structure.

Tyrel felt like he was being stabbed. The troopers who were trained there were like his own children, and were dependent on a high oxygen level in the air before Tyrel's team could switch the weak original organs in their bodies with the far more effective vat grown ones. In the thin, wispy air of the world itself, they'd be gasping like fish out of water.

"No... _this _is what it feels like to be stabbed."

The sudden female voice was Tyrel's only warning before blinding pain erupted from his right shoulder. Crying out in agony, he looked down at the sharp metal point that had emerged from within him, slick red with his blood.

With a lurch it was yanked back, and he screamed again as it was pulled out of him. Falling forwards, he barely heard the yell as the technician jumped towards the attacker and found the sword that had just been in his boss was now pointed at him.

Tyrel made a grab for his radio. "Security! We have an intruder! We need help!"

The radio was silent for a moment, then the voice of the garrison commander came on. _"We've got bigger problems Doctor! We've got ground forces engaging from the north-east!"_

X-X-X-X-X-X

The Alliance troops who were posted to the perimeter of the complex were picked from the unimaginative lot. They needed to be, as they had boring duties guarding a base that they knew nothing about, least of all what happened within. The Alliance didn't like people asking questions.

However, the orders for these men were clear; no-body in or out without the proper codes. The men were there as much to keep the scientists and subjects in the base as much as to keep intruders out.

Given the rugged, difficult terrain that the base was built in, the likelihood of armour assault was deemed negligible. When it was factored in that only the Alliance had armoured units these days, those chances dropped almost to the realm of impossible. As such, the weaponry the men had was mostly anti-infantry, with some anti-air packs in case of a low level air attack.

But right now they faced their nightmares, as tearing across the land were armoured ground units.

A dozen were simplistic boxes mounted on tracks that appeared to absorb every rut and bump the land had and kept on going. From their boxy construction and the number of hatches along the sides, it was easy to guess they were some kind of APC.

But these were armed better than battle tanks, as their small twin turrets hurled red bolts out at a rapid pace, blasting apart the fortifications that stood in their way.

Leading the charge however were four monsters made of metal, denying any convention. The smaller three were lean, predatory shapes, sleek and agile. The forth however was a real monster, glaring red lights on its 'head' as it advanced, the massive dual turret on it's back lashing out and gutting the few heavier structures they had built.

Alliance infantry crouched behind their low wall, firing bursts from their guns, hoping for some heavy support to arrive. One plucky trooper fired an anti-air missile at the large demon, but it simply shrugged off the small blast and kept advancing. The ground was beginning to tremble from its heavy footsteps.

As the monsters and APCs got closer, the Alliance troops began to fall back. They were dull-witted, not stupid.

The titan stepped over the rampart like it wasn't there. Two of the smaller hurdled it without falter, hesitation or trouble. The third perched on the top of one of the reinforced bunkers built into the wall. It had been a strong point in the line. Now it was useless. A concentrated volley from the APC's had punched through the thick concrete shell and set off the ammunition within. Smoke billowed out from the front were their infernal weapons had struck, while thin streams escaped through vision slits on the sides.

Perched on the flat roof, the smaller, almost bird like machine demon looked about, then snarled toward a cluster of Alliance troops as the first of the APC's crested the ramparts; something they should not have been able to do, as the outer face of the wall was five feet high, sloped back by thirty degrees and smoothed down to a glass like finish.

A sharp report marked the arrival of one of the few tanks that were assigned to the base. A second shot took a chuck of concrete out from the lip of the bunker, just a few feet from the smaller machine-creatures foot.

A deep, anger filled snarled split the air as the large one charged the tank. The commander must have finally noticed it, as the barrel swung around to bear. But the demon was too fast, its foot crashing down onto the tank. The turret jammed in place, the barrel bent. The track wheels were crushed into each other, and the whole frame buckled a bit. That didn't satisfy the beast though, as it leaned down and opened its jaw wide. Metal teeth the size of a man's forearm bit into the heavy armour of the tank. The tanks frame bent the other way now under the crushing grip as it was lifted clean off the ground.

Alliance troops watched in fear and awe as the tank was slowly crushed in the vice like mouth of the monster. The groans and squeals of the metalwork yielding were loud enough to be heard even over the crash of explosions and the chatter of guns. The demon paused when the tank had been halved in width, before tossing it with a great shake of its head. It went whirling away to destruction.

A trio of tanks attempted to avenge their ruined consort, but the APC's guns cut through their heavy armour like it was cardboard. Each one blew apart, flames roaring from within the shattered hulls.

Darting black shapes came running from the base, where turbolaser bolts continued to rain down from the skies above. The colonials manning the Landrams' turrets took no chances, and laid down a pattern of fire that not even the enhanced soldiers of the Alliance could ignore. Both Blade Raptor pilots assigned to the marines also added their fire, their zoids forearm mounted repeating blasters spiting long lines of bolts, intended for lightly armoured vehicles or zoids, across the lines.

A few of the enhanced troopers made it through, but they could not stop the assault. Three tried to attack a Blade Raptor, only to be batted out of the air by the zoid's claws. Chucks of meat thudded into the ground.

Two more tanks advanced, firing wildly. When one shot hit the one smaller creature, the big one froze, then unleashed a deafening roar. It beat down on the ears of the Alliance troops, who were now mainly cowering in the dirt. It was a roar of anger and rage, and promised lethal intentions.

The titan sidestepped, facing the tanks head on. The head lowered and tail straightened. Then a barrel emerged from within the mouth, pointed at the lead tank.

The driver started to turn, but it was too late. A beam of yellow red erupted from the monsters mouth, slamming into the tanks' sloped front armour. There was a bright glare as each one was in turn turned to fire and molten metal.

The soldiers could only watch as the beam lashed across the training centre, the oxygen rich air within igniting at the touch of this savage, unearthly heat ray. The weapon cut off, but the roaring continued, as steam vented from under the raised plates that made up the monster's tail. It covered the sounds of movement near them.

The Colonial sergeant waited until the Fury had ceased dumping its waste heat before addressing the cowering Alliance troops. "Drop your weapons and surrender, now!" He barked.

The Alliance troopers looked around. Armoured men covered them with deadly looking weapons. Even if the fight had not already been chased out of them, it looked like these men would be immune to their weapons. Slowly, the survivors stood up, arms raised above their heads and weapons left in the dirt.

They weren't stupid, after all.

* * *

**DR: **Hope you all enjoyed that! I'll post the second half tomorrow, I think. Depends on the number of reviews I get... I should warn you all though, it will be _very _bloody...


	29. …Best Served Cold

**DR: **A thousand apologies for the delay people. All I can say is 'It wasn't my fault!'. I tried to log-in and post this last Sunday, only to have an error message come up when I went to the Log-in link:

"The Login/submission section is currently unavailble due to a technical glitch. Please try again in a few minutes."

I tried again every few minutes for the whole of Sunday. And every so often on Monday and Tuesday... even while I was work.

Anyway, enough talk. Here's the scene you've all been baying for. A warning though: it gets very bloody....

* * *

Chapter 29: …Best Served Cold

Dr Tyrel leaned against a wall, gasping for breath. The sounds of battle outside had faded a while ago, but he hadn't noticed. He'd been too busy running.

He'd managed to escape his office, and found a number of orderlies and security guards running to his office. In the broad foyer, he'd turned to see his attacker.

With a sureness that was disconcerting and a grace that was extraordinary, River Tam had stepped around the corner. On her heels had emerged a metal creature that yet moved with all the grace of organics. The mismatched two had faced off against over three dozen burly men.

Dr Tyrel, his shoulder hastily bandaged, had spoken to the men around him. "I want them alive, but apart from that... do what you must."

The orderlies had moved forwards without question. Some had been with the project since its inception; others were rapid grown from the early subjects. Still others were men who had joined later. Whatever their origin, they had all been mentally cleansed of all unnecessary thoughts and emotions. They felt no pity for those they man-handled from holding bays to operating theatres, even when they held them down while the scientists worked. The orderlies were cold, unfeeling, any desire to rise up stripped from their minds. To ensure the subjects were not contaminated by them either, all the orderlies were castrated as well.

Of course, none of the scientists or guards had been. Their needs were provided for though. Those subjects that were deemed unsuitable, or no longer valuable, for the Project were moved to a separate facility, were the men of the base could have access to them for whatever they wished. Some of the higher ranked members, those with private quarters, sometimes took one of the former subjects back with them for a time. One foolish scientist had even taken three at once that one time. He'd been found dead the day after, his skull bashed in with his own awards. The former subjects themselves had been dumped into the barracks for a week as punishment. None could walk for almost a month afterwards.

Due to their roles, all the men were big, strong and burly chaps. Dr Tyrel had expected this slip of a girl would pose no problem. Even if she had had combat training implanted into her brain, it was highly doubtful that she could use it without the Alliance trigger word.

River had just smiled darkly, griped the sword she had held in both hands, and waded in. The metal creature had snarled before following.

It had been a slaughter. River had moved with lethal grace and poise, her fists and feet lashing out lightning quick. The blade she held left arcs of blood in the air whenever she swung it. Tyrel found that he couldn't keep track of her hands, as she switched between single and two handed swinging fluidly.

The metal beast lacked her sheer speed, but made for it with brute force. Its kicks shattered ribs. Arms were pulled out of their sockets – and sometimes off the person entirely – whenever it got a grip with its jaws. The tail was the worst though. Those that it stuck with full force didn't get up again.

Throughout, River had move her way across the foyer towards him. When he realised this, Tyrel figured he'd best escape while he could.

Now, only a couple minutes later, he was gasping like his children had when their buildings were ruptured. His legs ached from the strain, and his shoulder throbbed with agony. The shot of painkillers he'd been given had worn off.

"You can run, but you can't hide." River's sing-song way of saying the words was a sharp contrast to the feeling she injected into them. Tyrel looked behind sharply, eyes wide. Nothing.

"Your sins have come back to haunt you, doctor." This time she sounded like she was in front of him. Again, nothing when he looked.

"Doctor Lee Tyrel. Man without conscience. Sad, really, to go through life without realising the damaged lives you leave behind." She continued to speak, each sentence sounding like it came from another direction.

"Never married. Never found a woman you could understand or control. Animals never took to you. You'd hurt them, they knew.

"Buried yourself in your work, knowing that you were running from an empty life.

"Stripped away your own morals, just like you stripped away others minds.

"You see yourself as a noble bringer of light." Her voice seemed to emerge from the grate he was leaning against, and he jumped away in fright. "But we both know the truth, don't we Lee? You're not noble, don't even know the meaning of the word. Just a sad, lonely little man, covered in the blood of all those you violated..."

"NOOO!" Tyrel screamed, suddenly finding the breath to start running again.

There was jerk to his leg, and suddenly he found himself falling. Crashing hard into the floor winded him. It took him a minute to think to look down.

The pain hit his brain just about when he realised his right leg ended at the knee.

"Did you care for their cries?" River spoke once more, and he looked up to see her standing before him, eyes hard and sword coated with red. "Did you feel their pain as you tore their lives apart?"

He tried to speak, to beg, but the blinding pain from his wounds choked off any sound. Suddenly she was standing over him, the tip of her sword resting over his heart. This close, he realised it was unlike any blade he had ever seen. Long and perfectly straight, the blade appeared to be perfectly flat and slightly tapered. All the edges were sharpened to beyond razor fine.

"Did you even wonder if what you were doing was right?" She crouched down, head near his. He couldn't help but look into her eyes. Hard, emotionless, and burning with a cold fire.

"Did you think you could justify any of it?" Her hands relaxed a little, and the blade sunk into him a bit. The sheer weight of the blade drove it into him.

She brought her head lower, to the point where she was only a few inches from kissing him. Some of her dark hair had escaped the braid she'd worn it in, and now hung down each side of his head, cutting him off from the world.

"They say the human brain can survive for nearly twenty seconds after a person is beheaded." She looked right into him. "I want you to spend that time thinking about what you have done, and what it means for your soul."

In a blur of motion she stood up. The sword, which had slowly been breaking his breastbone through sheer weight, was suddenly whipped out. The next he knew, the world spun before halting suddenly.

The view he had made him want to scream, but his vocal cords were _over there_, and his mouth was _here_.

River held herself still for twelve long seconds, but she could not hold in her feelings anymore than that. With a primal scream she brought the sword down onto the doctors severed head. The blade rose and fell again, and again, and again…

X-X-X-X-X-X

Simon ran as fast as he could, following the bulky figure of Ghost. The organoid had appeared suddenly from a corridor, terrifying many of the poor women who had been captive in this awful place. However he had paid no mind, instead all but pulling Simon away from one of the young women – just as young as River had been when she had gone to the Academy – and began to drag him deeper into the complex. Simon had demanded answers, but Ghost had simply told him that his sister needed him.

As they ran, Simon could almost feel the oppression that had seeped into these walls. The women held here had all been abused in ways that Simon knew would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

Ahead of him Ghost slowed, then stopped. Without the sounds of their hurried footsteps, Simon heard something else; soft weeping.

Moving around the silent organoid, Simon eased forwards. "Goes se..." He breathed when he saw what lay ahead. River was curled up on her side on the floor, the headless body of a man close by. A little further beyond was an area stained red, with scattered, unidentifiable lumps within the red mess. Deep groves in the floor caused pools to form, and the wall close by was splattered with blood. Her Centurion sword, its blade coated in the sticky stuff, lay discarded close to her.

Slowly he approached his still weeping sister. "River?" If she heard him, she didn't respond. She just kept on crying.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, he gathered her into his arms. With a lurch she threw her arms around him, burying her head into his chest as a fresh round of sobs racked her slight body. He pulled her tight, ignoring the bloody stains on her clothes, the splattering on her face. All that mattered was her.

Ghost watched them, then stepped over to the corpse. Stooping, he plucked her heavy blade from the ground. He paused for a moment, then reached down and tore the front of the dead doctor's jacket off, including his name tag, with his jaws. Knowing that their chief tormentor was dead would go a long way to reassuring the former captives.

X-X-X-X-X-X

As she flew the shuttle down to the surface, Athena made several slow circles of the complex. Fighting had died down twenty minutes ago, but the smoke from the battle continued to plume into the sky. The yard where the Nightbringers had been built was now a mass of twisted wreckage and fire, while the Training centre was an artificial volcano. The other two sectors were mostly intact.

Settling down in the central plaza, Athena noted the large group of captured Alliance personal, segregated into the soldiers and the scientists. Stepping outside she found Major Croft, the head of the newly formed Marines, waiting for her.

"Major, how did it go?"

"Very well ma'am. The zoids shocked the Alliance badly, and their defences couldn't stand up to our weaponry. It might have been different if they had decent anti-armour weaponry, but I doubt anything they have could stop him." Croft jerked a thumb towards the towering form of the Fury, stood on the southern lip of the bowl that contained the plaza.

"We quickly overwhelmed the outer defences and what little armour support they had was quickly taken out. After that, we moved in on the remaining structures. The Barracks and other living quarters had some resistance, but the fight quickly left them when the Blades started tearing holes in the walls and ceilings. As for the research labs..." Croft trailed off.

"Yes?" Athena prompted.

Croft swallowed before proceeding. "...We encountered no resistance. River and Ghost dealt with those who would have before we arrived." Croft looked at her, his eyes haunted. "It was a blood bath."

Athena shivered, despite the warmth. She had been told that River had been 'conditioned' for combat, but clearly she was even more deadly than she had thought. And it took very little imagination to figure what a steel-skinned servo powered organoid could do to a human...

She pushed the chilling thought away. "Casualties?"

"Three troopers with burns, a couple of broken bones and a severe concussion. Those sonic weapons pack a wallop." He half grinned, the motion tinged with remorse. "Alliance losses we reckon at forty-percent in troops, plus whoever was in those two sectors."

As he had talked, Athena had glanced around at the gathered prisoners. Many of the soldiers, as far she could see, wore glum, sullen expressions. The scientists were outraged by contrast.

Now a new group were being led out of one of the entrances to the waiting Colonial shuttle. Instead of the marines though, these were being escorted by nurses and medics, all in soft tans and wearing supportive expressions. The group within were all women, some barely out of girlhood, all haggard and worn. Many looked at the captured Alliance personal in fear. Athena's eyes narrowed when she noted that most were pregnant to one degree or another.

Croft followed her gaze. "They were the Alliance's captives." He said with a cold tone. "We found them in two areas. Those held in the research wing were being kept in isolation, while the others were being held in a... brothel, for the soldier's pleasure." The disgust in Croft's voice was clear as day.

A cold fire swept through Athena, and a scowl formed on her face as she marched towards the captive Alliance soldiers. Several of them stood up as she approached, clearly recognising a command officer. Or maybe it was because of the two organoids assigned to the Marines that she could hear were escorting her.

She stopped before them, her eyes hard as she looked over them. Many were scruffy, dirt streaked and stripped of armour and weapons. A few dared to look her figure over, making her feel unclean, though those ones shrank back when they saw the fire in her eyes.

"Who is your commanding officer?" She barked. The closest few flinched. Her voice carried across the entire plaza, drawing the attention of everyone in it. Even the Fury turned its head to follow the exchange.

One made his way to the front. "I am. Major Sung of the Alliance Armed Forces." He spoke defiantly. His uniform jacket hung loosely on him, the catches undone.

Athena glared at him, matching his gaze. Much of his defiance and resolve crumbled under her piercing glare.

After a few moments she spoke. "Tell me, whose idea was it that your men would be allowed to rape the captives at will?"

The Major shivered, but answered. "It was Director Tyrel who told me to 'dispose' of the subjects who were of no further use to his Project. Rather than terminate them..." He trailed off.

"Yes? Go on." Athena's voice had a commanding edge to it.

The major swallowed, knowing that he would be sealing his fate with his next words. "...I granted my soldiers request for them to be placed at their disposal."

"In other words you kept those women around as captive sex slaves for your men." Athena's voice was as cold as space.

The major's cheek twitched. "I did not endorse their actions..."

"Liar!" The screech came from behind Athena. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see several of the formerly captive women had moved over to hear better, and one now stumbled forwards, her face twisted in rage. She may have once been pretty, but livid bruises marred her face, arms and legs, her hair straggly. "You were down there just as much as any of your men! Don't think we don't remember you, the one who broke my leg, you son of a bitch!"

"Now see here!" the Major snapped, taking a step forwards.

He didn't make another. The organoids growled, freezing him in his tracks. But he also found a colonial laser pointed at his face. Athena may not have been the quick draw that her brother was, but she had practiced till it was smooth and quick.

"I have a mind to kill you where you stand." She breathed, eyes flaring with indignant rage. "Or maybe..." She trailed off, lowering the laser till it pointed at his crotch.

The major shrank back, covering himself with his hands. "You can't do that! As a prisoner, I have rights!"

"And did you give those same rights to these women?" She snapped back, eyes narrowed.

The other captives looked like they would surge forwards to protect their commander, but then a shadow swept over them all. Looking up, expressions of pure terror filled all their faces as they hurriedly stepped backwards, many falling down in the process.

A deep, powerful growl from almost directly above her drowned out all other sound, allowing Athena to realise that the Fury had moved off the ledge to stand just over her shoulder. The major's face paled, as the front of his pants darkened.

Disgusted, Athena holstered her laser. "Listen up, all of you." She spoke loudly enough that all the Alliance personal could hear her. "Consider yourselves fortunate that my people abolished capital punishment many years ago. Otherwise, I'd be well within my rights to have you all lined up against these walls and shot." A murmur from many of the marines and the former captives showed that many felt that that was what these scum deserved.

"So instead, I'm going to maroon you here, on this near dead world. Once we leave, you'll have one half hour to gather what provisions you can before we destroy the entire complex from orbit. You may be joined by other scum such as yourselves at a later date. Maybe sometime in the future a new government for this system will send a ship, and you'll all get a trial to determine the extent of your guilt. But for now, you are all exiled!"

The soldiers were cowed now, but the scientists were all hollering, demanding to be extradited due to their knowledge and skills. One, louder than most, came across particularly clear. "You're insane! You'll be throwing away the best and brightest of humanity!"

Athena turned her cold gaze on them. "You are nowhere near being 'the best and brightest'! You're 'skills' of torture and foul practices will not be missed, I assure you.

"As for your knowledge... We can get that from your computers, which we'll be taking with us."

Spinning on her heel, she strode back towards her shuttle, eager to get off this tainted world. She paused by Croft. "Keep them contained until we've stripped all equipment and computer systems from the complex. Then pull out with the zoids covering you."

"Aye captain." He replied, an almost eager gleam in his eye.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Fifty-nine minutes later, Athena watched as both her ship and the _Phoenix _rained hellfire down onto the complex. Both ships had turned bows on to bring all their heavy weaponry to bear, and they were savaging the complex. The central plaza was being left alone, but everything else was to be reduced to duct and ash. Much of the area that contained the complex was now an inferno.

Athena didn't know how many had not moved far enough away in time, and frankly she didn't care, which shocked her to a small degree. Then she remembered what those... people had done to their captives, and her blood boiled once more.

Right now those poor women were on board the military freighter that Apollo's gunships had escorted in. When they had learned of what the Alliance did to female captives, she and Achilles had decided that the freighter would act as a recovery ship, where they would receive all the help they needed, both medical and emotional. There was no doubt in anybodies mind that these poor people had suffered greatly. Their recovery was expected to take years.

Finally she signalled to Lieutenant Hathoway to cease the bombardment. There was nothing down there except fire and molten steel and rock. It was time to rejoin Achilles and the fleet.

As the two destroyers turned away to head towards Osiris, the freighter turned towards Hera, paced on both sides by a pair of former Independent corvettes. They were an ancient ship design, only really a threat to unarmed vessels or ships smaller than themselves. But they made excellent escorts. Plus they were about the only craft that could keep up with the freighter.

Not that the freighter really needed escorts. Although thinly skinned and poorly armed compared to Colonial warships, to an Alliance ship it was a very tough cruiser type ship. The people within her hull were safe now.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Down on the planet, Count Iblis strode through the fires that raged where the Alliance complex had been. Anyone witnessing him would have thought they had descended into hell, as he was so furious that he'd dropped the genteel, kind old man image, revealing his true form.

The fires that raged around were as nothing compared to the fire that burned within him though. It was a black fire, pure hatred and loathing was its fuel, and it twisted everything it touched. Heedlessly he walked across a pool of molten metal, bubbling and hissing as it started to cool and harden once more.

Everything he had worked for, everything he'd crafted, guided, lay in ruins around him. Over twenty years of subtle nudging, suggestion and word dropping was wasted. Over the last two years all the small labs and separate projects had been brought into one single complex, with a greatly increased rate of development and innovation. Iblis recognised that humanity was greatly innovative. It was one of their greatest strengths. Set them a challenge, an obstacle, and they'll find a way around or over or through it, and more often than not much, much faster than any other race he'd seen. And he'd seen a lot. It was why they had grown so much in so short a time.

He stopped on the lip of the central plaza, remarkably still intact. All the entrances around the rim were filled in from within with rubble, but the carved form was intact.

Then he spotted the being standing at the centre of the plaza, and a surge of hatred shot through him.

Down there the white haired and suited figure turned to look up at him, expectantly.

Reluctantly, Iblis drifted down to the level of the plaza, resetting his human-like visage as he did.

"Quite the mess they made of this place, isn't it?" The being known as John said as Iblis came close. He then looked at him squarely. "Oh sorry, was this one of your projects?" There was nothing regretful in John's tone though, nor his expression.

"Keep it up John." Iblis snarled. "I still have a few cards to play. This game is not over yet."

John smiled coldly. "The end is certain this time Iblis. You can not run forever."

"NO ONE HAS DOMINON OVER ME!" Iblis roared before vanishing from visual sight, his human image dropping before he disappeared.


	30. Let Slip the Dogs of War

**DR: **Back again, with another fleet clash. The end is coming for the Alliance...

* * *

Chapter 30: Let Slip the Dogs of War

"Colonel? We've received a message from the _Rosetta_. The mission was accomplished, the facility destroyed. No losses, and they have rescued a number of captives from the base. Surviving Alliance personnel were marooned on the planet for the time being."

"Acknowledge." Achilles replied, eyes not straying from the view ahead. "Inform Captain Athena that she is to bring her ships back to the fleet."

"Aye sir."

For a few moments Achilles was silent, eyes slightly narrowed. "Any change in hostile fleet's formation?" He barked.

"Negative sir. They are maintaining course and speed. Gunships are deployed in a defensive formation. No sign of fighter launches yet." The sensor officer answered.

Achilles nodded. They had picked up this Alliance fleet the previous day, heading towards them on a direct intercept course. Conference with the other ship captains confirmed that this fleet comprised the bulk of the Alliance military forces. Clearly, they had called in every ship they could get.

He turned his head a little back towards his crew. "Are we receiving any kind of transmission from the Alliance?"

"Nothing directed at us sir. There's a lot of inter-ship traffic though, mostly originating from the rearmost Judgement class vessel."

'_Hmmm... likely the fleet Commanders' ship...' _"Gunnery control, mark that ship. I want to be able to target it at a moments notice."

"Aye sir."

Achilles frowned. _'What are you planning?_' he mused, staring at the tiny flecks that marked the Alliance fleet. _'What are you thinking? Are you here to capture, or destroy? Are you going to demand a surrender, or are you going to come in guns blazing?'_

"Sir, we're picking up targeting scans. Engine emissions have doubled."

"Sound the alert!" Achilles snapped, striding back to his podium. "Helm, bring us up to half speed. Communications, inform the fleet that they are to hold back for now. We need them to give us legitimacy here."

As the bridge worked to put his orders into effect, Achilles turned his chair to face the rear of the bridge. Apollo and Sheba were stood there, watching and waiting.

"Feel free to deploy your gunships Major." Achilles spoke aloud to them, a small smile on his lips. Apollo nodded grimly, while Sheba had a feral gleam in her eye as they exited the bridge.

"Sir, we're detecting fighter launches!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Admiral Koyotan was stood at the Command Point on board his Judgement cruiser, the expanse of space opening up before him. Ahead he could see the other four Judgements formed up ahead of his ship in a loose square. At the edges of his vision the wall of Unity class cruisers were slowly falling back; they did not have the raw speed of the Judgements. He knew that the Storm cruisers were formed up behind the Unity's, waiting for the order to charge into the fray, while the Lancers were ready to swing around the flanks and cut off the rebels retreat. It was going to be a glorious day!

He refocused his eyes on the slivers of colour that marked the rebel fleet. Scans had already confirmed that a Unity and a Lancer had thrown in their lot with the rebels. They would be punished with extreme prejudice.

As reports of the fighter squadrons successful deployment came in, a evil smirk formed on his face. From his seven Storm's and five Judgements, he was fielding no less than forty-eight squadrons, a little over seven hundred fighters. While they couldn't kill anything but the weakest warship, they could cripple any craft, destroying weapon emplacements and damaging drive systems. His eight gunship wings would sweep whatever fighters they could put up out of the sky...

"Admiral, the lead ship in their fleet is advancing ahead of the main rebel force. Fighter and gunship sized craft are deploying from it."

"Identify it." He barked harshly.

"Scanning now sir... sir, we have a match for primary target."

Koyotan shook his head in confusion. It made no sense to send one ship alone to fight off a fleet, no matter how powerful. The only reason... "What are the rest of the rebel scum doing?" He yelled out, a tinge of worry in his voice.

"Rebel fleet continues to advance at previous rate sir. No change in course or speed."

Koyotan frowned. _'This makes no sense! They are hopelessly outgunned!'_ Before he could give any more orders however, a powerful hail came over the comms system.

"_Attention Alliance Fleet, this is the Colonial Battlecruiser _Thunderchild. _We advise you to stand down now. The Alliance government is cowardly and cruel. It is a bloodthirsty dictatorship, one that must fall for the sake of the people. It is to the _people _that your oaths of loyalty are to, not to any one government! We do not wish to destroy you, but if you press your attack we will have no choice. Don't die for a cause that's not worth your lives. Stand aside."_

Koyotan snarled. How dare they broadcast a message like that?! He furiously stabbed a hand down onto the panel before him, opening an open channel.

"You will pay for your treacherous thoughts! All ship's, commence attack! If you do not attack the rebels, then you will be destroyed too!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Apollo sighed as he cut off the open channel from the Alliance force's leader. "Achilles was right: we have to destroy them."

"I know." Sheba reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "I don't like it any more than you do, but they are leaving us no choice."

"I know." Apollo reached up with his other hand to clasp hers, before letting go to grasp the pair of control yokes used in the gunship. "Okay..." He flicked the switch to open a squadron channel. "...Things are about to get ugly, so here's how we stay alive. Darkstar's Three and Four, support Red Squadron."

"_On it sir." _The two gunships banked away, engines brilliant white as they kicked in their turbos.

"Darkstar's Five and Six, you're on close escort duty. Anything that gets past _Thunderchild_'s defences are yours."

"_Copy that."_ The young pilot of Darkstar Five answered as the two gunships piloted by less experienced crews fell back.

"Darkstar Two, you're with me." Apollo finished his orders as he turned the gunship towards where Blue Squadron was forming up.

"_Right with you Major."_

Apollo had to admit, the Darkstar was a lot better than the _Freedom _had been. That ship had been an experiment at first, then rushed into combat when the Cylon armada was sighted. Its design and materials just were not up to the stresses imposed by combat conditions with Colonial systems.

The Darkstar, built from the design up as a gunship using Colonial technology, was a much more robust beast. By using a proven Colonial design layout, the engineers knew how to get the maximum strength out of the hull.

They had also taken on board all of Apollo's comments and thoughts regarding the _Freedom_, and incorporated them into the Darkstar's design. Turbo's had been installed into the main engine array at the stern, and to add extra power when needed the rear of each side pod had an oversized zoidian ion booster built within. Firing both the Turbos and the boosters at the same time created enormous acceleration, more than the force shield could fully handle.

As Apollo eased the gunship into the midst of the Vipers, they got a hail. _"Hey Apollo, great to have you back."_

Apollo smiled. "How's the squadron Starbuck?"

"_Ready and eager to get going."_

Apollo looked ahead, towards the growing slivers that were the Alliance ships. Tiny notes, hundreds of them, marked where a wall of fighters was advancing on them. The sensor screen was filled with them. "How's it looking Sheba?" He called over his shoulder.

"They're using Cylon tactics." She replied, cool and calm, with a slight hint of surprise in her voice. "Trying to overwhelm us."

"_Yea... with targets." _Starbuck put in. He then sighed. _"These guys are no match for us, even with a two-to-one advantage."_

"Well, this times its ten-to-one." Sheba cut in. "They're not all coming in at once though. They've straggled out, likely intending to hit us in waves. First group has a squadrons worth of craft plus a dozen gunships. Second group is ten seconds after then, two squadrons worth only."

"_Okay Blue Squadron, everyone lock a hostile. We'll give this first bunch a missile volley, then turn and burn for the second set. Apollo, mind cleaning up what is left?"_

Apollo grinned. "I'm always cleaning up after you Starbuck." Behind him Sheba chortled in amusement.

Ahead the closing Alliance craft began to take form, the larger gunships interspersed in the midst of the smaller fighters. As Apollo watched the range fall, he hoped that the pilots would not engage...

Then the gunships fired, missiles leaving the rails under their sweeping wings and pushing forwards, leaving trails of gases behind them.

"_Set to Fire & Forget, and... fire!" _Apollo sighed as he triggered his own missiles, locked onto one of the Gunships.

The Colonial missiles leapt forwards, bright blue exhaust plumes flaring. They rocketed forwards at incredible rates, rapidly out pacing the Vipers, who were already turning towards the second wave. Apollo continued after the missiles, diving for the heart of the formation ahead, which was only just starting to react to the Vipers change of course... and the wall of missiles heading for them.

Apollo closed his eyes as the first one detonated, acutely aware that each craft was piloted not by a machine, but a flesh and blood human, just like him. As such he didn't see the chain of explosions that tore the Alliance formation to ribbons, tearing apart most of the fighters and several gunships. Several were sent swirling into space, broken and twisted.

The sound of the heavy turret guns firing prompted him to open his eyes again, and with a firm grip on the controls he dipped the nose a little and dove towards the remaining craft.

Most of the fighters broke off and fled back towards their homes, their will to fight broken by the wholesale destruction that had surrounded them. One gunship began to follow, but was blown apart by one of its own. Eyes narrowed, Apollo headed right for the killer, priming his heavier set of lasers. The gunship was turning back to fight when he fired, twice. The first set blasted the nose and cockpit off, the second struck the engines and transformed the whole craft into a fireball.

The few remaining fighters tried to attack, their gas powered railguns spitting slugs that bounced off the shields. In reply the smaller laser turrets sent back a torrent of crimson death, tearing the smaller craft apart.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Admiral Koyotan was shaking with rage as he watched the on going fighter battle. His force was being cut to pieces! Whole squadrons dived into both rolling dogfights, emerging back out as only a couple of fighters, most of which broke away and fled for their home ships. On his orders, several of the Unity's had used their weapons to destroy those cowards. Desertion equalled death. He noted that three of the Unity's had not fired, and he had their names logged. When this was over, those captains were going to be court-martialled!

The unknown ship, their primary target, was still advancing, coming right down the middle between the two swirling dogfights. Behind him he could hear his crew preparing to fire the Judgement's heavy missiles, powerful enough to blast a Unity's tower apart.

He looked at the screen showing the layout of his fleet. The judgements were where they should, at the fore. The Unity's were slowly falling back; they were more suited for long range fire support. The Storms were easing up, ready to charge...

Mostly. Three of the Unity's were falling behind their counterparts, and five of his Storms were also lagging behind. Nearly all the Lancers were moving slowly too...

"Get me fleet wide!" He yelled out. Once the chime sounded that the channel was open, he all but bellowed into the mike.

"Press the attack you cowards! Stop lagging behind, or you will be..."

He was cut off however when from the distant sliver of metal that was the strange hostile ship burning blue-white darts lashed out in pairs. Several converged on the _Lawgiver_, and the Judgement visibly shuddered. A bright flare marked an impact point near the starboard missile bays, and then the entire section blew outwards in a hail of metal and flame. The cruiser began to tumble, more strikes tearing her engines apart.

Koyotan's throat was dry as he watched one of his ships being torn apart. "All ships... close in! We must avenge..."

"Sir!" One of his officers yelled out, panic in his voice. "Our fighter and gunships wings have been routed! Enemy fighters and gunships are closing with our warships!"

"Then we will swat them from the skies like the gnats they are!" Koyotan snarled, whirling on the officer.

"But sir... our ships are not capable of fending off..."

In a fit of rage Koyotan drew his sidearm and fired. The bullet caught the officer in the throat, pitching him back over his chair to slam onto the deck, gasping for breath even as he drowned in his own blood. The other bridge officers looked on in horror.

"There will be no talk of defeat or surrender in MY fleet!" Koyotan screamed. "Now... attack that ship!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

The blue grey bulk of a Storm flashed by underneath him, fires erupting from wherever his lasers struck. Sheba had the ventral lasers hammering the cruisers defensive weapons, while the dorsals reduced to scrap any fighter that tried to stop them.

As he pulled up, Apollo cast his eyes about. On his orders, the pilots were focusing their attentions on the more aggressive ships in the Alliance fleet. A number of ships had fallen back, becoming isolated from the others. Hoping those ones wishing not to fight, Apollo had ordered those ships left alone, for now.

The Vipers were darting about the much larger craft like tiny sharks attacking a pod of whales, their lasers tearing chunks out of them. Already several ships were struggling to manoeuvre, and with each attack run another weapon was removed. Several of the frigates had changed course and were attempting to hold back the Colonial attack, but the Vipers were too fast, while the other Darkstars were taking the thin skinned frigates to pieces.

Yet the real killer was closing steadily. _Thunderchild _was cruising in, and already her weapons were striking out. One Judgement was now a hulk, and a Unity was drifting in two separate parts after the battlecruiser broke her back.

One of the Unitys began to slow, turning hard away from the closing warship. But before Apollo could order off the Viper's harrying it, two missiles launched from the central Judgement, where they had triangulated the Alliance Commander was. Apollo gaped in horror as he realised where they were heading.

"All vipers, break away!" He cried into the comm, acting on his own words and blasting away from the Storm at full power. All around the Alliance fleet Vipers rocketed away on full turbos.

The two heavy missiles smashed into the Unity cruiser from behind, crashing into the lower rear sections of the main towers. The twin detonations tore the central region of the cruiser apart, sending the outer sections flying even as secondary explosions tore them apart from within.

"_Lords of Kobol...they just killed their own people..." _one of the Viper pilots breathed in shock.

Apollo hardened his heart and focused on the Judgements, noting how the second group of ships had picked up speed and were closing...

X-X-X-X-X-X

Koyotan smiled cruelly as he saw the other ships began to pick up the pace. A demonstration of what happened to traitors always brought people into line.

He ignored the damage reports coming from his own crew and the other ships. All he cared about was hurting the craft that was now clearly visible out the window. He gazed with contempt at the angular, geometric design, with its hard angles and long flat planes. He scoffed at the side pods; why would anyone of intelligence leave sections the ship hanging out like that?

One thing he could not ignore or belittle were the weapons fire it was spitting out. Those blue-white bolts were tearing his ships apart. But there were only six weapons, and he had many ships. Soon they would be able to target those weapons directly, and then...

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when a pair of orange-red beams leapt from either side of the ship's prow and slammed into one of the other Judgements. Within a second the hull had caved in, and the beams sliced right through the ships internals. What little that was left of the Judgement after the beams carved through it was torn apart by secondary blasts.

Koyotan was stunned, but before he could vent his rage, another officer called out in panic. "Sir! Our ships that fell back are attacking the fleet! They are not responding to hails! Orders?"

Koyotan swayed, shocked to his core. Numbly he pulled a small device from his pocket. Bringing it up to his face, he dragged his eyes away from the alien ship that was carving a second Judgement apart to look at it. It was a simple black cube with a covered switch on one side. He knew that activating that switch meant his death...

'_Damn you all to hell!' _He thought as he flicked the switch...

X-X-X-X-X-X

A few thousand kilometres away, seven jet black, bio-mechanically altered ships drifted, awaiting a signal. When Koyotan flipped that switch, it triggered the beacon that alerted the Nightbringers that they were needed. Powering up, they engaged their drives and roared towards the battle, with standing orders to destroy everything...

* * *

**Harry: **Oh oh....

**Hermione: ***Meep* (Hugs Harry tighter)

**O'Neill: **You said it.


	31. Into the Depths

**DR: **Part two of the fleet battle is here! I know you're all champing at the bit, so lets jump straight in...

* * *

Chapter 31: Into the Depths

Achilles sighed in relief when he witnessed the trailing Alliance ships turn on the others. He'd resigned himself to massacring the entire fleet when they had picked up speed, but now he felt relief that he and his crew would not have too. Around him the crew raised a low cheer; they too were overjoyed that they would not have to become murderers, but at the same time they knew what this action would be costing those crews.

_Thunderchild _continued to close with the engagement, her lasers stabbing out. Behind her the _Wolves Dancer _and the former Alliance ships were burning hard to catch up.

The third Judgement was breaking up when a panicked voice called out from the sensor station. "Sir! Reading seven incoming contacts, consistent with the Nightbringer class ship we engaged before!"

A collective sharp intake of breath ran throughout the bridge, leaving it silent expect for radio chatter and the sounds of the computers. On his command pedestal Achilles leaned heavily against the railing. One Nightbringer had been trouble, but seven? While he had supreme confidence in his ship, Achilles was not arrogant. He knew that this was going to be tough.

"Plot an intercept course. Inform all the other ships to continue to engage the Alliance, and have our Vipers and Darkstars form up with us."

With grace unmatched by anything built within the system _Thunderchild _swung her bow up and to starboard a little, her engines flaring a little brighter as she pushed forwards, towards the oncoming Nightbringers. Unbidden, several of the other ships, including the _Wolves Dancer_, turned to follow.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Boomer frowned as he looked over his shoulder at the following ships. "Why are they coming? Their ships don't have the protection of our own..."

As if in parallel with his thoughts, Achilles voice came over an open channel. _"Allied ships... what are you doing? You know what those ships are capable of."_

It fell to Commander Harken to respond. _"We do colonel. We also know what they would, and will, do if they're not stopped. We've all lost friends and colleagues to these... abominations. We want a piece of them ourselves."_

There was a long pause on the line. Boomer turned the short conversation over in his head as he awaited Achilles response. _'They have a point, they do deserve to give back some of what they've been taking. But how can they engage targets that they can't see, and which can destroy them with ease?'_

The answer came to Boomer just as Achilles began to speak again, with a noticeable sigh prefacing his words. _"Very well. Hang back, and we'll provide you with target coordinates. You'll need to use saturation fire to bring one of these monsters down though."_

Then there was no time for more discussion as the Nightbringers were dead ahead and already firing bolts of venomous plasma. Boomer's scanner chimed, and he looked down to see that the Nightbringers were launching their own fighters. Boomer felt the comforting shove in the back as he engaged his Viper's turbos. Around him the other pilots of Red Squadron followed suit, as did Blue Squadron and Apollo's Darkstars.

Time seemed to slow down as the fighter forces clashed. The fighters from the Nightbringers were faster and more agile than their regular counterparts, but against the Colonial Vipers the end result was the same. Scores of the 'enhanced' fighters were blown to oblivion in the opening few moments of the battle. The Alliance craft turned more sharply than the originals, allowing them to strike the fast moving Vipers more often. However their weapons were the same, and the Vipers' shields merely shrugged off the solid metal slugs as the craft raced off before arcing round and transformed the offending fighter into a bright flare in space. Most of the time. Sometimes the fighter jinked away, taking glancing hits... which were still lethal. Boomer felt a shudder run down his spine when his latest target did this, and one of his lasers played across one of the organic 'additions'. The biological tissues, somehow hardened against space, were flash boiled and burned off, leaving a thick trail of red-black liquid which instantly became a fine mist that trailed after the wildly spinning and breaking apart fighter.

One of the Nightbringers had angled away from the others, attempting to make a run around the oncoming _Thunderchild_, but it had been set upon by Apollo's gunships. The six Darkstars circled and looped around the dark ship, their laser fire slowly wearing away at its hull. Small plasma bolts stabbed out in an attempt to stop them, but the few hits slid off the shields and were left behind before they could do serious damage. Even as Boomer glanced at the fight one Darkstar strafed the cruisers keel, all its forward weapons blazing. Metal bubbled and melted while organic material burned as the lasers flashed into them.

_Thunderchild _herself stormed up on a vector that would take her between two of the hostile ships. The volume of fire she was putting out suggested that after that pass neither cruiser would be a threat anymore. Of course, they were not taking the pounding lying down, and a hail of plasma bolts and beams stabbed back at the battlecruiser, whose shields were glowing under the constant assault.

Boomer had no time to take in the rest of the fight, as another fanatical Alliance fighter came barrelling towards him. From the way it moved, Boomer got the feeling that the pilot intended to _ram _him. Shaking his head slightly, his thumb drifted right and pressed down on the third button on the stick.

The roar of the three ion engines directly behind him changed pitch as they switched to full reverse thrust, bringing his Viper to a sudden stop. The Alliance pilot was clearly surprised, as he failed to turn and engage but instead began to cross Boomers nose. His thumb lifted off and jumped to the left, mashing down the firing stud. Both bolts caught the fighter square in the back, instantly turning it into a ball of fire.

Swooping away, Boomer was just in time to see the first missile launched from their allies' ships detonated just off the bow of one of the remaining Nightbringers. Dozens of others detonated in rapid succession, wrapping the Nightbringer in fire and light. As the flames died the ship's ugly prow emerged, looking like the fire burned end of a wooden log. It was pitted and battered, small fires burning within. Including the bridge, Boomer noted, as the ship slowly began to tumble out of control.

Up ahead, _Thunderchild _began to slip between the two cruisers. The last two cruisers, hanging back for the moment, had added their fire in support of their brethren, and their combined fire had brought the shields that protected the Colonial ship down. The battlecruiser was surrounded by a nimbus of green plasma as she forged ahead. The two cruisers besides her visibly shuddered as like a 16th century sailing ship the entire broadside armaments of _Thunderchild _cut loose. Lasers of every grade stabbed out, savaging the cruisers in an orgy of destruction, while the side beam lasers sliced the corrupted hulls wide open. Return fire slacked off quickly as explosions blossomed within the dark hulls.

Another Alliance fighter exploded to his right. Boomer snorted. Cylons these guys were not. They were hopelessly outclassed, but their fanaticism drove them to die here for a lost cause rather than give in, surrender, and live.

A quick scan of his scanners revealed that all the Nightbringer fighters were gone. Seeing a familiar Viper pull up along side, Boomer opened a channel. "Starbuck."

_"Yo Boomer. Looks like that was the last of them."_

"I confirm that. So what now?"

_"Apollo's fine, so let's get those last two. Soften them up a little for Achilles."_ With that Starbucks turbos ignited, powering him forwards. The rest of his squadron followed suit. Boomer nodded silently then engaged his own.

X-X-X-X-X-X

The blue green gem of Osiris lay ahead, barely an hour's travel away under normal circumstances. Yet at that moment Achilles was not looked at it. Instead he was focused totally on one of the displays that wrapped around his chair. The expression on his face clearly showed that what he was reading was not pleasant.

The battle against the Nightbringers had been as brutal as he had feared. The first two had been dispatched with relative ease, but the remainder had fought on regardless. Apollo had done a fine job on the one, but two had gotten past the Colonials and engaged the allied fleet.

The first had been pounded apart, thanks to a constant barrage of missiles fired ahead of it. Thanks to the scanner data sent from _Thunderchild, _the local ships had been able to predict where the monster would be. The second ship had managed to get in close, and it had torn a bloody swath through the fleet of defected Alliance ships. It had only been stopped when the _Wolves Dancer, _which had been hit hard in the first exchange, had recovered and darted underneath the Nightbringer. She had then used her heavy railguns, each one firing a solid slug the size of a man, to smash the monsters keel apart. The entire frame of the ship had been bent out of shape by the massive kinetic impacts. But that one, short rampage had done a lot of damage. Nearly half dozen ships had been destroyed, and three times as many more so damaged as to be unsalvageable.

As for his own ship... mostly it had been stripped of armour, the plasma drifting away and sliding off before it had a chance to melt through. The result was that it looked worse than it actually was. However, before Starbuck and Boomer had been able to knock them out, the last two cruisers had landed some solid hits with their prow mounted lasers. An ugly scar ran down the front of the prow, just missing the bridge. A deep gouge was cut into the leading face of the port wing. Most worrying, another beam had played across the engines, damaging several systems. While the energisers were in no danger of going critical, the control and power systems were 'twitchy' – the chief engineers exact words – and another hit in that area could shut down one of the energisers.

They had also lost nine crewmen during the battle, with a dozen more injured. Those were recovering in the Life Centre, but there was nothing for the dead. A warrior had also not made it back. His Viper had been caught in a cross fire between seven Alliance fighters, and between them they had worn his shields down to the point where some rounds had retained enough force to punch through the hull and into the internal systems. One of the fuel lines had been breached, and the Viper had blown apart, taking one of the Alliance craft with it due to the force of the blast. Three other warriors were in the Life Centre, wounded from shorted systems and battle damage. Lastly, Darkstar Five had been caught out, and had been brushed with a Nightbringers laser. While not destroyed, the gunship was crippled, and liable to be out of action for some time. One of the consoles in the cockpit had exploded, wounding the co-pilot. Fortunately he would recover.

With two thirds of the fleet damaged to a significant extent, the decision had been made that the bulk of the fleet, containing all the damaged ships, would head for the main shipyard in the system, orbiting above Osiris' second moon. There were still two dozen former Alliance ships supporting them, not that Achilles expected any more fights. With all the Nightbringers gone and the bulk of the fleet turned against the Alliance, they controlled space. And from what they had gathered from the various news services that had sprung up, the people were also rising up on nearly every world in the system. Even some of the Federal Forces had switched sides. Of course, for every one that defected, two more went on a spree of brutal reprisals against the people who called for the Alliance leadership to come out and pay for their crimes. Last he'd heard, the bulk of those squads had begun to shoot people... and gotten mobbed and lynched in return. On the outer planets, the local sheriffs and lawmen supported the people's calls for justice, as they had all suffered under the iron grip of the Alliance.

Ahead, tiny motes left Osiris, heading out into deep space. The personal ships of high ranking Alliance officials, fleeing the planet ahead of the oncoming fleet. And likely people on the surface, baying for blood, Achilles thought. He felt no sympathy for those officials. They had leached the people dry, pampering themselves. Now the people had had enough, and wanted their pound of flesh. And so the cowards that had prospered under the Alliance fled like the rats they were, grabbing whatever they could before running.

Achilles fixed his eyes on the cluster of tiny sparks. _'Run while you can, but know you can't hide forever. We will be coming after you, sooner or later.'_

He was contemplating sending one of the Guardians off after those ships – it wouldn't even have to go full speed to catch even the fastest – when an officer spoke up.

"Colonel? We're receiving an audio transmission, directed to us."

Achilles frowned. "Put it on."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal was stood up in the cockpit, staring at the growing sphere that was the planet.

Osiris. He'd never thought he'd go anyway near it. It was the heartland of the Alliance. Within its sterile cities was where the Alliance was born. Doing any kind of job near the planet would have be suicide, so intensely was it watched and controlled.

And yet, here he was, as part of a fleet of independent traders, former Alliance vessels, and one seriously powerful Colonial warship. Not only that, it looked like the Alliance was finally beat...

"We're getting a call." Wash broke into his thoughts. "It's Achilles."

"Put him on."

Mal turned to regard the screen on which Achilles face appeared, a stern look in his eyes. Mal immediately went on guard.

_"Mal, I have a situation here. We've received a communiqué from a member of the __Alliance__ Cabinet."_ Behind him Mal heard Zoe shuck in her breath sharply. _"She's willing to divulge the location of the Cabinet, if we extract her from Osiris and provide protection."_

"Ratting out her colleagues to save herself." Wash commented disapprovingly.

"Could be a trap sir." Zoe chipped in, echoing Mal's own thoughts.

_"Maybe so. But it's an opportunity we can't afford to pass up. The Cabinet still have, if our information is reliable, vast sums of money and a substantial force of personnel. We can only win this war when we find and capture or kill them."_

Mal suddenly got a bad feeling. "You want us to go get this gal, right?"

Achilles nodded grimly. _"I'm afraid so. You and your crew know these worlds better than anyone on my crew, and I don't fully trust the locals to ask any of them to extract her. I'll have Apollo and __Sheba__ on standby in case things get out of hand. Take Starbuck and Boomer too, just in case."_

Mal sighed, then nodded to Wash. Wash looked like he might have protested, but a look at Mal's face convinced him to stay quiet.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Down on the surface, the woman known to _Serenity_'s crew as Saffron sighed as she reached the door to her flat here on Osiris. She'd finally managed to escape Duran Haymer's grasp, seducing one of the guards enough to give her an opening.

Getting out had been easy, getting away not so much. Everywhere there was more and more security. It was hard to find marks these days. And those she did find, either were barely worth the effort, or were total sleazebags that she really _didn't _want to be anywhere near.

In fact, her whole life had gone downhill ever since she'd marked Mal and his ship. Now she had to crawl back to her first hidey-hole on Osiris. Most of her other places had to be let go or abandoned.

After swiping her card, she slipped inside before leaning back on the now closed door, eyes slipping shut. It had been a long day, complete with having to fend off one scumbag.

Breathing deeply, she stepped forwards, hands moving to remove her jacket...

...And froze. There on the floor before her were a discarded pair of women's shoes. Shoes that she would never wear. They were too plain, too... practical, for her tastes.

Wary, she tread lightly as she moved deeper into the flat. A couple of soft bleeps from the second room led her there.

Poking her head around, her eyes sprung open. She swore.

Loudly.

The woman sat before the terminal turned her head to look back at her, a sad smile on her lips... lips whose shape was very similar to her own. As was the face they were on. Only the hair really told them apart, dark chocolate instead of strawberry blonde.

"Hello mei mei. Been a while hasn't it?"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal checked his gun nervously as he felt _Serenity _settle down. "I don't like this." He muttered.

Truly, it was a dicey game they were playing. They had set down on one of the outer spaceports, in one of the suburbs of Capital City. A last minute alteration had Miranda ride down with her zoid, while Vega came down with them. He had wanted to let the Fury out again, but a rampaging metal T Rex would have been too obvious. The Blade Raptor however was small enough to slip between buildings and escape notice, if needed.

The control tower, in fact the entire 'port was unmanned, setting Mal's nerves on edge. Things were too quiet here. Normally the authorities would never have let _Serenity_, let alone the Colonial gunship, land at this pad, despite its remoteness. And yet there had been not one single challenge during their entire descent.

He looked over to his right, where the civilian Landram sat, filling nearly the entire cargo hold. In essence a stripped down version of the standard Colonial Landram, its armour was thinner, had larger windows and no gun turret. And padded seats. It was still tough enough to withstand almost anything handheld that the Alliance could throw at them, and it was quiet. The Mule that hung overhead was faster, but it would only run with four. Five and it would be overloaded.

Mal sighed lightly when he saw that Kaylee was stood on the roof of the Landram, tinkering with the Mule overhead. Simon wanted to visit his folks, and both Kaylee and River were going along. Mal had reservations about letting them go, but River could take care of all of them.

Trouble was, he could have done with Rivers talents with him. He had plenty of fighters, but her psychic abilities were invaluable. This whole deal smelled like a trap to him.

"All done Kaylee?" He called up as he stepped over to the side of the slab sided vehicle.

"That's it." She chirped back happily, wiping her hands on a rag she'd pulled from a pocket. As she clambered back down Mal could see Boomer's head leaning out from the front. Mal nodded to him, and the dark skinned warrior nodded back silently. He ducked back in, and with a tiny shudder the Landram's engine came to life with a quiet whine.

"Okay... let's do this." Mal called as he put his foot on the running board. On the other side of the hold he could see Wash and Zoe exchanging a few words, before she stepped over towards the Landram. Ghost was already in the back, revealed only by his eyes.

Once they were all on board, Starbuck goosed the throttle, and the Landram rumbled quietly out of the hold, down the loading ramp and out into the city. From the open hatch Kaylee watched the dull grey vehicle seem to glide off towards the city, fading into the night.

"They'll be okay." She said aloud, partly trying to convince herself.


	32. Confronting the Past

Chapter 32: Confronting the Past

'_I never thought I'd stand here again...' _Simon looked up at the house that sat on a small rise before him... his parent's house. The home in which he grown up in... and which he had been kicked out of when he became 'deluded' about the state of his sister River. To be fair he had gone willingly, frustrated with his parents because they would not believe his concerns about River, and her treatment. A few short months later he had gotten her out, had the last of his accounts confiscated, and was on the run.

Now he was back. He allowed his eyes to roam about the area, seeing the changes. Even here there had been violence as the rule of the black hearted Alliance was cast down. The main casualties were the automated 'Public Security Towers' that had been fitted on the street corners. After everyone had seen what they were really capable of, nobody had wanted armed gun turrets overlooking their homes. A couple of burned out ground vehicles showed that not all the towers had been taken out before they could deploy their weapons. Simon felt a shiver run down his spine as he imagined the oceans of blood that might have coated the very streets he had played in as a kid.

Other victims included the struts of the 'energy barrier' that had surrounded the grounds. Now many of the poles were broken and bent, shutting the system down for good. Apart from that though his parent's home seemed to be intact, untouched by the break down of the world around them.

A touch on his arm made him turn his head to see River at his side, her face fallen and bleak. She hadn't seen this house for over six years. Back when she'd been nothing more than a truly brilliant child.

There's was nothing child-like in her gaze right now. Simon hadn't told her, but she had learned all the same, about how their parents refused to believe him, trusting the government explicitly. They had refused to even consider the possibility that her letters were really a message, a desperate cry for help hidden underneath normal pleasantries. They were convinced that it had been another one of her 'silly games', like when they had been small children.

Kaylee was stood a couple of steps behind them, silently watching. She knew this was a difficult and emotional time for both of them. She knew that as much as she had needed to see her parents, Simon needed to see – confront, more like – his own.

Simon and River looked at each, and for a long moment they remained like that, seemingly sharing that special communication that siblings had. Then Simon looked once more towards the house, and began to step up the path. Silently the two women followed.

Reaching the door, Simon hesitated. It was only when Kaylee slipped her hand into his and gave a small, reassuring smile that he reached out and rang the bell.

For several long moments nothing happened, then a shadow moved up on the other side of the door. Kaylee found herself taking a deep breath as the door was opened.

Despite her cheerful, sunny nature, Kaylee found herself taking a dislike for Simon's father on sight. He had a hard edged face with a narrow chin, hooded eyes and dark hair that was starting to go grey. For a few seconds he looked at them without recognition, but then he narrowed his eyes at Simon.

"Hello father." Simon began.

"What do you want son? Haven't you shamed us enough?" He looked like he was about to continue, but then he noted the young woman to Simon's left. "River?" He asked while his eyes widened slightly. "What... why aren't you at the academy?"

River's face lost its neutral expression, and her eyes narrowed. "That... torture centre is the worst place in the 'verse Dad. Simon helped me to escape, and I'm never going back."

Gabriel frowned. "What about your education child? You won't make it anywhere in the world without a full Alliance education..."

Simon shook his head. "Father... haven't you been watching the news? The Alliance is gone."

Behind Gabriel his wife approached hearing the exchanged words. She silently stood just behind her husband's shoulder as he tried to refute his son's words.

"No, it can't be gone son. Those barbarians from the outer planets could never bring down..."

"Barbarians?" Simon cut in sharply, stunning his parents. He gestured to Kaylee, who still had an arm hooked through his. "This is Kaylee. She's from one of those outer planets. Would you describe this beautiful woman as a Barbarian?"

The Elder Tams both looked at Kaylee, who blushed slightly under their gaze.

At last Regan Tam answered her son's question. "No, of course not." From the look in her eyes, she was already warming up to the young woman before her.

"Besides, surely the Alliance were the barbarians." Simon continued, focusing solely on his father. "Father, they were developing, and _deploying,_ biological weapons, genetic technology and cybernetic monsters. They were taking normal people and turning them into weapons, less than human. They had towns that had contact with the Colonials wiped out from orbit. Haven't you been listening to what's been happening lately?" For Simon, his question echoed their conversation from when he had tried to convince his parents that River was in danger. And just like then, his fathers face was impassive, stony.

"You should know better than to believe that propaganda put out by those... people." His father countered.

"It's not propaganda Father. I've seen those things with my own eyes." There was a deadly seriousness to his tone, combined with a total lack of emotion, that reached both Gabriel and Regan Tam much more profoundly that any amount of shouting would have.

For several long seconds no one spoke, an uneasy silence hanging in the air. Kaylee watched from the sidelines the expressions on the four faces around her, wondering who would crack first.

In the end it was Gabriel who broke the silence. "So is that it? That all you came to tell us?"

Simon sighed deeply. "No. I came back because... actually, I'm not sure why." He frowned, clearly unsure as to why he was still standing there. He looked across to River, who had a familiar look on her face, one that he had had directed at him many times in the past.

"I see I was right. You are lost without River..." Gabriel cut in harshly.

River stepped in now, her eyes blazing. "Simon helped me, when no one, _even you_, cared to." While their parents gaped, River continued. "I was the one who was lost, adrift within my mind and those of the people around me. Just pieces of wood, floating in the ocean. Battered by waves of emotion, lost without direction or the means to find one.

"Simon came for me, came when I thought no one would. He gave up everything, to find me broken. He never gave up hope of bringing me back. I owe him more than you could possibly know.

"He cared for me, when _you didn't._" Both parents flinched at her last words.

Leaving them speechless, River turned to Simon. "Come on Simon. Let's go home. Our _real _home, _Serenity_." As she stepped down from the doorstep, Simon could see on his parents' faces that they had recognised the name. Whether it was the name of the infamous valley, or the ship named after said valley, he couldn't say.

Drawing Kalyee a little closer to him, Simon looked his parents in the eye.

"Well, goodbye." Was all he said, as he handed to his mother a slim black case with his free hand. As she took it, Regan Tam gasped slightly: Simon had used his left hand, and the wedding band on his ring finger gleamed in the light falling from within the house.

Gabriel Tam was quick to see why his wife had reacted as she had done so. "And when did _this_ happen then?" He called as Simon turned about to follow his sister, Kaylee turning with him.

Simon didn't face him to reply. "Little over a year ago now. While we were away... on the other side of the 'verse." It was only after he said it that he realised that he had used Mal's expression for the universe. Shrugging internally, Simon began to walk back down the path. Kaylee looked over her shoulder back at his parents to give a small smile as she walked with him.

Gabriel snorted as he closed the door quickly, before making his way back to the paper he had been reading... even though it was out of date. The Government had controlled the press, and now with the Alliance's fall, the press had to restart from scratch.

Regan however remained by the door, holding onto the package Simon had given her. After several long moments, she opened it. What she saw inside caused her to gasp once more, and tears formed in her eyes.

There were two large photos on the inside faces of the folder, facing each other. One showed Simon and the young woman who had been beside him just now, dressed for a wedding. She knew without question that it had been theirs. So focused on her son and his bride, she didn't notice the other people stood around and behind them. Nor the mecha-organic being that was just visible on the far left of the shot.

The other photo showed the two of them again, this time with the young woman sat in a bed, Simon standing behind her. She looked tired in the extreme, but overjoyed. Simon's face echoed hers.

The reason for those feelings was clear. In the woman's arms were two bundles. Newly-born children.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal was watching every door as he strode down the corridor, Zoe following him just over his shoulder. Jayne was staying with the lift, while Starbuck & Boomer waited with the Landram. Hopefully, if everything went smooth this would be simple meet, pick up and go job. Still, Mal was uneasy. Nothing involving the Alliance ever went smooth.

The flat where they were to meet this Alliance Cabinet person was surprisingly located right in the heart of a seedy Blackout Zone, those sectors of an Alliance run city where the criminals gathered, where shady deals were done, where the Alliance Federals feared to tread. Most had been isolated from the cities' power grids in an attempt to force the under classes out of their holes, an attempt which had backfired on the Feds, as they lost the ability to monitor the people within. However many people avoided the regions for the same reason as the feds did; they were dangerous places, best stayed the hell away from.

Mal had noted that while everywhere else in the city the people were taking out the towers, they had not touched one on the boarder of the zone. They feared those within more than the Government.

Those same qualities however also made these regions useful for underground resistance to the Alliance, though from what Mal had gathered, over the last year those groups were getting caught attempting to leave the zones, or boxed in within them.

"Seven-nine-one, here it is..." He spoke aloud as they reached the door to the apartment that they had been directed to go to. After sharing an uneasy glance with Zoe, he rapped on the door.

For a few long moments there was nothing, before the sounds of footsteps behind the door could be heard. A shadow cut off most of the weak light that escaped from under the door, and then it opened.

Mal's eyes widened in shock at the person that was on the other side, and his hand snapped to his gun. The person also looked shocked, one hand shooting out to the side.

They ended up both with a gun to their heads. _'De-ja-vu...'_ He thought to himself. Zoe, seeing Mal draw, also brought her gun to bear.

"What are you doing here Malcolm Reynolds?" The woman known to them as Saffron challenged angrily, eyes flaring.

"I could ask you the same thing Yo-Saf-Bridge." Mal answered calmly, never taking his eyes off the backstabbing seductress, even when he noted movement deeper within the small apartment.

"I see you've already met my little sister." Trusting Zoe to keep an eye on the harridan in front of him, Mal looked up at the person who had spoken.

Looking at her, he knew instantly that she was Saffron's sister. She had the same facial structure, the same lean yet full figure. Yet she was clearly not a twin either. She was a few inches taller, closer to Inara's height. The face was a little narrower, while the hair was dark. Also, unlike Saffron, she was dressed in a conservative woman's business suit over a simple cream blouse.

"I take it you're the minister we're supposed to collect?" He asked, directing his words over Saffron's shoulder.

"That's correct." She replied smoothly. "I have to admit I am surprised that you'd be the ones to come down here." She smiled slightly. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused for some of my former colleagues?"

"No. And frankly I don't really care either." He was about to say more, but Saffron spun around to stare at her sister.

"You INVITED them here?" She said icily as she stepped a few paces towards the other woman. Mal followed her in, letting his gun drop to his side.

The Minster's face fell into an exasperated look. "Mei mei, I own this place, remember?"

"Okay!" Mal cut in, stepped between the two siblings. "Lets just grab whatever you need and... tzao-gao..."

Mal had turned to regard the minister, and had seen something that sent a chill up his spine: a red spot moving up her arm and over her shoulder.

The red spot of a sniper rifles targeting laser.

As the spot moved up her neck, he threw himself forward. "Zoe!" He yelled as he tackled the minister around the waist, knocking her backwards. He had barely struck when he heard the crack of glass, the sound of something zipping past. Something was shattered on the other side of the room.

The other two women were not slow. Saffron threw herself into the corner between the door and the window, while Zoe spun around and looked out into the corridor.

Rolling off the minister Mal reached down and yanked the radio from his belt. "Jayne! Wake up, we've got trouble." Peering through a couple of old ornaments on the window sill, he tried to locate the sniper. He may as well have blown in the wind. The next building over was a dark slate...

A flash was his only warning, and Mal dropped downwards. Just above his head the ornaments shattered, raining him with fragments of china.

"Time to move." He commented, before crawling underneath the window to reach the other side. Glancing over his shoulder he saw that the minister, despite the fear clear on her face, was copying his actions.

"All clear... so far." Zoe told him as he scurried to her side. Nodding, he turned back to face the other two.

That's when things went from bad to worse.

The window that the sniper had shot through now shattered as a figure swung in from above. The minister, caught directly underneath, curled into a ball as the glass rained down on her. The figure was dressed in black, with an assault weapon slung across his chest. Even as he unclipped himself from the tether he was unhooking his weapon.

Mal didn't give him the chance to bring it to bear. His gun snapped up and roared, the bullet catching the guy in the chest as he turned. Zoe also fired, putting a heavy slug into him too. The guy staggered back before falling over. Mal wasn't sure if he was dead, but wasn't about to stick around to find out.

"Let's go!" He snapped, reaching out and pulling on the minister's suit collar. As she stood she gasped, before reaching out and swiping an old capture from a small table by the door and stuffing it inside her jacket.

With Zoe leading the way they hurried down the grubby corridor. Mal brought up the rear, watching their six. He was the first to hear a distinct buzzing sound.

"Seeker!" He yelled, squinting hard trying to work out far behind them the mini-missile was. Ahead he heard Zoe mutter a curse under her breath.

"Jayne, call the lift! We've got a Seeker on us!" She snarled into the radio she had brought up from her belt.

They entered the central lobby area, on the other side of which the elevators were placed. The middle one was open, Jayne stood in the doorway. The four of them raced across the space, the whine of the incoming seeker driving them on. "Go, Go!" Mal yelled as Saffron slipped in past Jayne. That missile sounded like it was right on their heels. Jayne pulled back into the lift as the minister reached the doors. She slipped in between Saffron and Zoe, leaving just enough room for Mal. He half jumped forwards just as the doors started to close, yanking his coat forwards to prevent it getting caught. Landing on both feet, he looked over his shoulder as both sets of doors closed.

A loud bang resounded from the other side, and the whole elevator rocked, but the doors held, and the second after they began to descend back to ground level.

Mal sighed in frustration. "Why does it never go smooth?" He moaned.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"_Sir, target has escaped the floor and is heading down in a lift. The seeker detonated on the outer doors."_

"Understood. Team Gamma, move to intercept them at the front door."

"_What of their transport?"_

"Try to capture it if possible. The technology would be of great use to us. Eliminate the crew."

"_Aye sir, Gamma team moving in...Gorram it, they're already outside! Taking fire! They're on the move!"_

"All teams mount up! We need to catch them before they leave the area!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Apollo and Sheba were sat together in the rear cabin of the Darkstar, uniforms half undone, when the comm system squawked. Suppressing a sigh of frustration, Apollo leaned away from his wife to answer.

"_Apollo! We could use some support about now!" _In the background behind Starbuck's voice both the Colonials could hear the chatter of local small arms. Frustrations forgotten, both sprang up, fasteners closing rapidly.

"How bad is it Starbuck?" Apollo asked.

"_We've got four ground vehicles and a trio of skiffs chasing us down. And there appears to be a low level aircraft involved too."_

"Hang tight, we'll be there in two minutes." Apollo told his old friend as he dropped into the pilots seat, his fingers of his free hand dancing across the controls. In seconds a rising whine resounded around them as the lethal gunship came to life.

"Patch me through to Wash and Miranda." He called over his shoulder.

"Already got them." Sheba answered. On the screen before him Apollo saw images of Miranda and Wash appear side by side. Inara could be seen standing behind Wash in _Serenity_'s cockpit.

"I just got a call from Starbuck." Apollo began without preamble. "They're in trouble. While we're helping them, keep an eye open. While this might just be some local trouble, I have a feeling it is not."

Miranda nodded. "We'll be ready for anything."

Apollo nodded then cut the line. Taking a grasp of the controls, he fired the gunship's thrusters.

From outside the Darkstar jumped a few feet into the air, the nose leading the stern a bit. The engines flared, spitting out bright plumes of blue-white thrust that nearly brushed the ground as the gunship leapt forwards, away from the nearly empty landing pad and off towards the city.


	33. Final Act

**DR: **Well, we're getting closeto end now, but we're not home yet. Some action and some 'action' today, if you know what I mean...XD

* * *

Chapter 33: Final Act

"Faster, faster... faster would be better!"

For what it was and the design, the Landram **was **fast. On open ground like on the majority of worlds in this system the ground vehicles would have fallen behind. But in the city on this core world the roads were all paved with tarmac, giving the wheeled SUV's the advantage. True, the Landram was much more comfortable on a road than any local tank, but it still skidded easily. Starbuck had started using that ability to try and throw off their pursuers, but so far it hadn't panned out yet.

Besides, no amount of skidding or speed would throw off the skiffs, which hovered a metre or two above the ground, allowing them to reach speeds that no ground bound vehicle could reach.

Mal ducked back within the Landram as one of the SUV's roared in close. Bullets bounced off the armoured hull, sounding like a swarm of demented bees crashing into it. The plating was only a couple millimetres thick on this civilian model, but that was plenty thick enough to hold back small arms.

Yanking the empty clip from his gun, Mal swore as he peered out of the window. The SUV's were trying to get on both sides, while the skiffs were trying to get angles on the two Colonials driving. So far both Boomer and Starbuck had held them off with their lasers, even landing some good hits, despite having to split their attention on controlling this beast.

Across from him Jayne's repeater fell silent. "They're getting out some big guns!" He barked as he slammed home a new magazine.

Mal cursed then looked for himself. Sure enough, the passengers of the SUV's were bringing out larger, more impressive guns. And one of the skiffs was swinging on to their tail...

"Go left!" he yelled. Up front Starbuck cut the left drive, causing the Landrams nose to swing left. Before they could start to slide however he started the left tracks going again, and with a small jolt they started forwards, at an angle to their previous route... a route that was stitched with impacts as the skiff's nose mounted cannon fired off a burst.

Suddenly the whole Landram was rocked sharply, accompanied by the sounds of crumpling metal and breaking glass. Saffron swore loudly, prompting Mal to look at where she was crouched by Jayne. Beyond her he could see one of the SUV's looking worse for wear.

"You bun tyen-shung duh ee-dway-ro's couldn't think to brake, could you!" She snarled, snapping off a few rounds from the pistol she held point blank into the SUV. Mal noted the pistol was Jayne's.

With a lurch they disengaged from the SUV, twisting back towards the centre of the road. Behind them the SUV's driver must have been hurt, as it ploughed into a wall, mangling the front end further and throwing the front passenger through the cracked windscreen.

A man leaned out of one of the other SUV's, clearly holding a rocket launcher. Before he could fire though, Zoe did. The rocket whistled past them, barely. It raced down the street before crashing into a dark store, which was blasted open.

Mal cursed, before using his left hand to throw small catches on his gun. With a sharp tug he pulled the whole barrel assembly free of the grip, tucking it into his holster. Then his fingers moved back a little, and slid the second barrel section, the one River had made, out of its holder. A few quick catches and the flipping of a switch later, and Mal's pistol was now a deadly Colonial laser. In theory.

Leaning out, he sighted in on one of the skiffs which was lining up for another strafing run. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled the trigger.

A thin, reddish orange bolt stabbed out, significantly thinner than the original Colonial models. But the affect on the skiff was all that was asked for. The bolt struck just to one side of the nose cannon, tearing apart the thin metal skin. Some of the bolt must have penetrated deeper, as something exploded within the craft's nose. The pilot yanked the nose back as the craft shock, clearly trying to avoid a crash while the craft was being thrown about.

Mal's joy however was dampened when he saw an aircraft swing in behind them, starting an attack run. He recognised the silhouette; it was one of the dreaded Vampire ground attack craft, the root of many an Independent soldiers' nightmares. Each one carried a vast array of cannons, missiles and bombs, enough to waste an entire convoy in one pass. Worse though was the howl of their engines. The exhaust ports had been designed to lower the craft's heat signature, but the acoustics also created this bone chilling, deep scream that had driven grown men to throw themselves flat on the ground screaming for mother.

Mal looked ahead... and cursed. They were caught in a long, straight street, with no turn offs which would have allowed them to throw off the Vampire. He met Zoe's gaze, and in her face he saw the same resignation he felt...

A sudden explosion behind him lit up the street, and Mal turned to see the Vampire had disappeared in a large fireball. Small fragments of burning metal were sent flying like streamers.

"What the..." Mal heard Saffron ask aloud, just as series of twined red darts stabbed down towards one of the SUV's. It served violently and managed to avoid the first set, but the second and third blasted the roof off and turned the once imposing vehicle into a rolling bonfire. Seeing the fate of those two, the other SUV's and the skiffs turned and abandoned the pursuit.

Up front Starbuck sighed in relief. "Good timing Apollo. It was looking a little hairy for a moment back there."

Over the radio Apollo chuckled. _"I have to keep you alive Starbuck, otherwise Cassie would kill me." _Then he carried on in a serious tone. _"Head back to the landing field. The others are on alert. We'll watch you from the air."_

With that the Gunship healed over and rose into the night sky.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Achilles stared at the cluster of asteroids ahead, silent in thought. After their escape, Mal had relayed the location of the Alliance Cabinet. They were not, as had been expected, hidden in some bunker on the planet. Instead they were at the heart of this asteroid field.

And every instinct within him was telling Achilles that this field was a minefield, littered with traps.

Still, they had to go in, in order to end this Civil War. Achilles knew that if they removed the head, the body of the corrupt Alliance would wither and die. Already over half of the system's armed forces had switched allegiance, and without the support of their Black Ops forces the leaders had lost a lot of their power.

Normally, Achilles would not wish to go in and root them out. Against Cylons, it would be a death trap. Whole fleets had been swallowed up by such targets, without significant progress being made.

Still, it may be possible to punch through...

"Summon all officers to the briefing room, one hour." He called over his shoulder.

"Aye sir."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Mal stood on the edge of the gathered pilots, captains and crewmen, all awaiting Achilles. The first time they had met like this, there had been much grumbling and complaining as Achilles had set out the rules of engagement for this war. The second had been ripe with fear, as the Alliance fleet had been dead ahead and only a few hours from battle.

Now though, there was only tense anticipation. Achilles had proved himself worthy of leading this force through his actions in the battle with the Alliance Fleet and the Nightbringers.

A hatch hissed open, and Achilles stepped out onto the raised region at the front of the gathering. He paused at the edge, looking out over the gathered people.

"Thank you for coming. We're at the closing stages of this war, thank the Lords. I know you are all wondering why we are out here, outside this small asteroid field." On the large screen behind him, an image of the asteroids in question appeared.

"It is quite simple really. The Alliance Central Government's nest lies at the heart of it."

Murmurs ran through the crowd at this news.

"According to our scans, and the local archives, at the centre of this field is a tiny moon. It is on this hunk of rock that the Key Members are hidden.

"It is almost certain that the entire field, possibly every single asteroid, is mined with a range of concealed weapons, booby-traps and other surprises. Therefore, we will not risk the fleet attempting to bully our way in.

"Instead..." Achilles raised his voice to overcome the muttering that had begun to pick up. "...the bulk of the fleet will be dispersed, to surround the field and catch any craft that attempts to escape." Behind him the screen changed to display a pictorial image, with a cluster of brown circles in the centre. White arrows moved from a cluster to the left until they completely encircled the field, leaving a small cluster at the start point.

"Due to the nature of the environment, the encircling force will be composed of cruiser type vessels, with frigates acting as links between them. A small force of frigates however, will enter the field alongside _Thunderchild_, in addition to the _Rosetta _and _Phoenix_."

The screen zoomed in on the small group, the field expanding till the edge was only a shallow bow shape.

"However, we are not going to play their game. Both Viper squadrons will re-use one of Major Apollo's tricks. All Vipers will form a wall, cut thrust, and then fire away."

Athena, Starbuck and Boomer chuckled as they recalled when Apollo had created that tactic. Back then Apollo had created it to allow them to burn a safe path through a mine field that filled the Nova Madagon Passage that led to Carrilon.

"_Thunderchild_ will follow the vipers in, using her larger, more powerful lasers on the larger chunks of rock. Once we have reached the central rock and neutralised the defences, we will give the Cabinet one last chance to surrender before we land troops.

"Make no mistake; this is the end of the line for the Alliance. I suspect they'll try and take as many with us as they can before falling though, so watch yourselves and your ships. Dismissed."

As the others began to stand up and leave, Mal remained by the wall. As such, he was able to see how Athena stepped towards Achilles. They stood silently for a long moment, before enfolding each other in a tight, intimate hug. Mal turned away to give them some privacy, but not before he saw Achilles nuzzling into her thick hair.

As he strode out, Mal's thoughts turned to Inara. They had been dancing around each other for some time now, slowly drawing nearer to each other. Now that their lives were becoming less 'Interesting', he had allowed his thoughts to wander onto topics that he had not allowed himself to consider in the past, even in passing. He'd once told Saffron that he'd be 'a terrible husband'. Now though....

Saffron. Mal grimaced. Her political sister had been taken into protective custody by the Colonials, barely holding things together; she'd been terrified the whole time they'd been pursued. But Saffron herself remained on board _Serenity_. He had been assured that she would not be able to take one of the Colonials ships, but Mal wanted to keep an eye on her, or at least have his crew do so. She was not going to screw them over for a third time.

As he tracked some of the others out, he saw Inara stood just outside, looking in apprehensively. Steeling himself, he stepped over towards the Colonel.

X-X-X-X-X-X

They lay together, sweat slowly drying across their skins. He lay spooned behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist. He muzzled gently into her thick, dark hair.

He'd been wanting to be with her like this since they got back to the ship, but there hadn't been the time to slip off together before they'd landed on _Thunderchild._ Even after they'd off loaded the Minister he'd been called away to attend a briefing for all captains. They'd barely had time to discuss something important.

But once he'd returned... they had barely been able to rein in their passions while around the others. The secret knowledge they shared had gnawed at their self control, until it was at the point when he had been at the verge of telling his crew to go away. She'd slipped out early, saying she was tired. In fact she took the loop around the dining area, before heading to his bunk, where she had gotten ready for him.

When he'd finally escaped from his crew, there had been no time for words. They'd thrown each other into the bunk, throwing the gates wide open.

Now, at last, they were spent, lungs gasping for air. There had been a frantic, almost desperate aspect to their passion, fuelled by the fear of never seeing each other again, which had been a very real threat only a couple of hours ago.

As she lay there, she examined the simple ring that marked her finger. It didn't stand out much: she'd always worn rings, many more ornate, but this one was special.

"Mal?"

"Hmmm?"

"Where will we go... I mean, what do you plan to do when Achilles launches his attack?" She asked quietly.

Mal sighed lightly as he considered things. "We'll stay on board 'Nara. We can't do any good out there, but maybe here..."

Inara nodded slowly. "Miranda will be pleased."

Mal chuckled. The young woman had all but run off the ship before _Serenity _had settled down into the arms of Vega, and neither had been seen since.

Inara once more focused on that simple ring on her finger. She knew that she'd recall their earlier conservation until the day she died...

_..."Inara, a word?" Mal asked politely. Nodding, she followed him out of the hold and into the passenger area, beyond the sick bay. Once they were as far as they could get from the others he stopped... and then found himself wrapped up in her arms as she kissed him hard._

"_I thought I'd..." she couldn't say it, the tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes._

_Mal didn't say anything, he just held her while she pulled herself together. But there was something he wanted to ask, and he knew that time was short._

"_Inara...It's a sure thing that Achilles is going to pushing hard for a final battle. He wants to bring this war to an end." He stepped back a little so he could look into her eyes._

"_You know I ain't one for fancy words and such like... I say it as it is. Things down there got rather... hot for a moment, and I realised something." He paused to look at her squarely. Inara found her heart beating faster and harder._

"_Inara... I want you. I don't know what'll happen over the next few days. But I do know that I want to find out with you. By my side."_

_The tears had returned to her eyes, but this time they were of happiness. She knew what was coming next._

"_I want you... to be my wife."_

After her resounding 'Yes!' she'd insisted that they be married right then and there. Mal had frowned, then smiled. After the big meeting, they'd gotten Achilles to wed them, with Athena, Apollo and Sheba acting as witnesses. All three Warriors had been full of congratulations for the two of them.

As she lay there, with Mal's body pressed up against her back, Inara wondered when Achilles would ask Athena, and how long before the two kids went that far...

X-X-X-X-X-X

Down in the bay where he'd stayed, the Fury growled lightly. The Zoid could taste the tension, the anticipation in the air. A battle was in the offing.

And yet... he was relegated to the sidelines. Growling once more, he scuffed the deck with his claws. He knew, in his core, that he could make very little contribution to the battle that was coming. But he yearned to do _something_. Vega may have tamed his bloodlust, but still...

Thoughts of Vega pulled him up, and he twisted his head to look at the small transport that he had used to reach the planets. The nominal crews were off preparing their battle stations, so the craft was deserted. Or should be...

Leaning forwards, he peered in through one of the cockpit windows, shading his own eyes light so that it would not distract the two young humans within.

Vega and Miranda were snuggled together on one of the bench seats that were to the rear of the cockpit, joined at the mouth in a desperate make-out session. Fury chuckled slightly. They'd been at it for a good couple of hours now, interspersed with some talk and reminiscing.

Right now their motions were not as furious as they had at first. Now they were taking their time, enjoying the moment.

As he watched, Fury saw how Miranda's hand slid down Vega's arm, before gently grasping his wrist. Then she did something that startled the old zoid, and clearly Vega too: she guided his hand around and inside her shirt.

Vega froze, clearly shocked at her actions. But she kept her lips against his, and her hand held his arm where it was. He began to kiss her back again, and then slowly, tentatively, his captured hand began to move under her clothing.

Fury sighed as he pulled back, returning their privacy. He doubted they'd go any further, but he respected them both enough to leave them to it.


	34. The Showdown

**DR: **Everyone, this is the begining of the end. The final, apocalyptic battle is here!

**O'Neill: **Excellent (wraps arm round Carter)

**DR: **Though before we get there, I ought to just point something out: What Miranda did last chapter is as far as they have gone, and they won't be going any further for some time. Age wise Vega's almost nineteen while Miranda's mid nineteen, so we're totally legal here!

* * *

Chapter 34: The Showdown

The President sat in his chair, staring at the screen before him. It showed in ruthless, exacting detail, the progress the Colonials were making. They were blasting a path through the mined asteroids, a wall of laser fire that destroyed everything in its path. Now and again, the larger ship would send twin bolts, vaporising larger asteroids in one shot.

In the other occupied chairs in the chamber the members of the Inner Cabinet were slumped, faces twisted into agony. He'd killed them all, over several hours, over the failure of everything. The others had fled, running away to plead for mercy. All bar one.

The President had no intention of surrendering, or giving in. He was not done yet. There was one card left to play...

Moving his arm, he hit a switch that had sat, unused, on his chair for as long as it had been there. With a clunk his chair sank a fraction, before slowly rising up.

He passed through the ceiling, heading up a tube that rose far above. The inside of the tube was ringed regularly, and looked more like something out of a living creature.

Light appeared above, and he ascended into another dimly lit space, the lack of conventional lights offset by the arrays of display screens. A row of large windows looked out onto an empty blackness, highlighted only by a vast shadow.

As his chair locked into place, the President looked to his right. "Status?"

The man that sat to his right turned his head to face him. It was about all he could move, as dark material was wrapped around his legs and torso. From the base of his skull a thick cable trailed down and into the seat in which he sat. His right eye was replaced with a machine implant.

"All systems are operational my Lord. The crew are in place and ready for your orders." He hesitated, and then continued. "Will the rest of the Cabinet be joining us?"

"No. They have paid the price of failure." The President answered. "Have you ascertained where the others went?"

The woman – or more accurately the being that had started out as a woman - to his left answered his question.

"Yes sir. We've pinpointed the tracking chip of the Culture Minister to a point on board the Colonial cruiser. The other three are near the edge of the field sir."

The President nodded to himself slowly. "Ensure that you keep track of those three. We'll deal with them after we've destroyed these upstarts." Behind him the door hissed open, and the only other living member of the Cabinet stalked in. The Blue Sun Director sank into the chair just over the President's shoulder, to the sound of connections being made.

"Now then... prime all weapons, and stand by on the engines. Captain, prepare to crack the shell."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Achilles looked hard at the massive asteroid that lay at the heart of the field, in which somewhere the Alliance Cabinet sulked. He'd been notified that another three had abandoned their comrades and fled the field. The Ministers for Health and Finance had surrendered to the Rebel cruisers that confronted them, but the Minister for Transportation had tried to run. The cruiser had no choice but to fire on his ship, destroying it.

Achilles watched as turbolaser bolts stabbed into the rock, blasting apart weapon batteries. He'd given the Alliance Cabinet three minutes to surrender. They hadn't, and now he had no choice but to take the base by force.

Around _Thunderchild _the other ships also fired carefully, clearing more asteroids as well as knocking out other weapon sites.

After only a couple of minutes, the last site was destroyed. "All ships... hold fire." Achilles ordered, and it was a testament to his leadership that they all obeyed. "Stand by to launch the shuttles..."

A bright flash from the surface of the asteroid cut him off. More explosions blossomed across the surface, blasting tons of rock into space. Great cracks appeared in the asteroids surface, zigzagging along the length...

Another explosion, this time much deeper within, blasted several large chucks outwards. As more and more explosions blasted outwards, Achilles realised that there was something _inside _those explosions...

A massive shape loomed in the small cloud of rapidly expanding dust, gas and rocks. As the cloud thinned the shape began to resolve into a mighty warship, almost as large as a battlestar. Its body was a long, flattened bar, with sloped armour and a shark-like prow. Four huge engine pods were attached to the stern by thick tree truck like arms...

Achilles narrowed his eyes as he looked closer. This ship was clearly mutated too, just like the Nightbringers. Only this beast was even further corrupted, even more twisted. Spiny outgrowths jutted from either side of and just below the bow, from the rear of the tower-like structure on the dorsal surface, and from the keel. The engines spars were totally hidden underneath a thick organic covering. Thick outgrowths and organic lumps were all along the hull. Just in his field of vision Achilles could see four large turrets, each one mounting what looked like the main weapon system from a Lancer Frigate. From the positioning, Achilles reckoned there would a dozen all told.

Even as he opened his mouth to speak, one of the turrets shifted. The barrels protruded out from an organic blob, covered with overlapping curved plates that looked almost like bone, or the shell of a beetle. The other two on the upper starboard flank also turned, swinging about to bear on the Rebel fleet.

"All ship go evasive!" Achilles yelled. Dark purple spears blasted forth, striking with deadly precision. One struck _Thunderchild _right on the bow, the ravaging energy only just held back by the shields.

The second struck a Lancer head on, and everyone could only watch in horror as the frigate was ripped apart by a chain of explosions that ran right down its spine.

The third struck the _Rosetta._ Her shields held for a moment... then buckled, allowing the tail end of the long bolt to smash into her starboard midsection. The whole destroyer bucked and twisted about as a massive blast ripped through her starboard batteries.

"Athena!" Apollo yelled as he watched his sister's ship twist from the hit. Anxious eyes watched as the destroyer slowly righted itself, a gapping hole in her starboard hull.

Achilles' narrowed eyes snapped back to the hostile... just in time to watch as from a long double row of dark ports that sat amidships on the titan, a volley of plasma blasts lanced out as the monster's engines fired, pushing the vast bulk forwards.

Almost two dozen bolts crashed into the fleet, the high density plasma blasts burning through hulls with ease to consume the air and crew within. The _Wolves Dancer_ took a hit on the nose, barely shrugging it off thanks to the thickly armoured prow. Several more blasts splashed off _Thunderchild_'s shields.

Shocked by the sudden assault, the fleet flailed about as the monster slipped into the asteroid field.

Achilles' eyes burned as he focused on the ship. "Recover all craft. Helm, plot a pursuit course." He stepped to the communication screens. "Get me the _Rosetta_! And the other ships too!"

Athena's face came on first, looking dishevelled. Her hair fell about her face in a mess, and in the background the wailing of sirens could be heard. "Athena! You all right?" Achilles asked, the anger from before gone.

"_We're okay here Achilles. The hull's compromised, but she'll hold together." _Her eyes narrowed and flashed dangerously. _"Go get those bastards!"_

Achilles nodded, before looking at the other screens. "_Phoenix, _assist Athena. Everyone else, tend to your wounded crews, and make best speed back out of this death trap. We're going after that ship."

He looked over to his XO, nodding. Silently nodding in response, the major turned and leaned over the helm crew.

_Thunderchild's _engines flared brightly, easing her forward as she arced round, heading after the mutated monster.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Three hours later Achilles was sat in his quarters, going over the data he'd been sent, and the small amount they had gathered from the brief encounter. Lieutenant Fairchild had recognised the ship design beneath the mutations, though it had shocked her. She had sent over what data she'd had.

Mid way through the Unity War, the Alliance Military had designed a 'Dreadnought' class vessel, intended as a war winning ship. The titan would be capable of ploughing through any Independent formation, dealing enormous damage on all sides and absorbing vast amounts in return. However, before the prototype could be built the Independents Fleet had been broken in one single battle, so the project had been shelved, then abandoned.

Clearly, it hadn't been as abandoned as everyone had thought.

Achilles frowned as he looked at the layered image before him. The original, archive plans were displayed, with the sensor profile of the mutated version overlaid on top of them. What had once been a clean lined, sleek warship had been twisted into something bloated and corrupt.

The comm chimed. _"Sir, we're approaching the planet."_

Achilles sighed. "On my way."

On the way to the bridge Achilles considered what he would be facing. The Alliance Dreadnought had put on a surprising turn of speed, burning hard away from the fleet. Achilles' ship had been slowed up by activated traps in the field.

The Dreadnought also had deadly weapons. When _Thunderchild_ had emerged from the asteroid field they had found one of their allied rebel Unity cruisers. It had been torn to pieces, with no survivors. The remains were molten and twisted, clear signs of plasma damage.

However, once clear of the asteroids _Thunderchild_ had began to overhaul the Dreadnought, which had last been seen using a planet's gravity well to alter course without slowing down.

Not that it would help them. Fast as it was, the dreadnought was no match for the Colonial battlecruiser in speed...

"Sir, we have a partial contact on scanners to port... rising above the planets horizon..."

Achilles frowned, a cold knot in his gut. They had just started their own slingshot move around the planet... Abruptly he realised what was likely to happen. "Shields to full, now!"

The energy shields snapped up, barely in time as the Alliance Dreadnought fired. A huge, dense dark-red beam lashed out from under her prow, to smash into _Thunderchild _with such force that it was still felt, even with the force shields. Then the beam burned through the shields and crashed into the rear end of Alpha Bay. The impact sent a shiver running throughout the battlecruiser.

In the bridge, Achilles snarled as alarms began to wail as the entire rear sector of Alpha Flight Pod began to turn red. The Alliance ship had turned into the gravity well, using it to make a sharp turn and bringing themselves up behind his own ship. Fortunately, the speed built up was now released, catapulting them outwards.

Still, they were in a dangerous place. "Hard a starboard! All power to stern shield!"

As the Dreadnought roared past like a freight train, it unleashed a rolling broadside into _Thunderchilds _stern. Plasma splashed off the reinforced shields, while pulse cannon bolts sent ripples racing outwards. So intense was the pounding that at points the shields yielded, allowing small amounts of weapons fire to slip through.

As the ships began to pull away from each other, _Thunderchild _responded, her turbolasers stabbing back at the black monster. Despite the dreadnought's speed several hits were scored all along her port side. Organic material was flash-boiled and the metal hull was blasted apart. However, the dreadnought's thick hull, much thicker than anything else built in the system, stopped all but the megalaser bolts from penetrating.

On the bridge Achilles' eyes narrowed as he watched the dreadnought pull away. "Pursuit course!" He ordered sharply, before stepping down and over to his XO, who was leaning over a console near the rear of the bridge. "Damage report?" He asked heavily.

"Heavy damage to Alpha landing bay: Launch Bay Alpha Three totalled." The ensign reeled off. "Substantial structural damage to Alpha Flight Pod.

"Lower engineering decks are losing atmosphere, engineering teams pulling back. Beta Bay is in flames sir, but the Fire Chief reckons it's under control."

Achilles nodded slowly. "Casualties?"

The ensign didn't answer for a moment. "Burn victims arriving at the Life Centre from Beta Bay. No contact at all with Alpha Bay crew."

"Understood." Achilles murmured, pain filling his eyes. They hardened into icy shards however when he looked forwards once more, at the four bright motes ahead that marked the engines of the Alliance Dreadnought. Beyond the tiny cross that was the ship lay a vast reddish purple cloud.

Achilles had to think for a moment to place the formation. It was called the Forlorn Nebula, named since it might have been another star in the system. The gravity well suggested that there was something at the heart of the formation. A few craft had tried to probe deep within the nebula, but all contact had been lost with them all.

And it was clear that the Alliance Dreadnought was heading right for it.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Anything?"

"Negative sir. Sensors still scrambled."

Achilles sighed in frustration as he stared out of the window before into a thick murk. They had entered the nebula twelve minutes ago, snapping right at the heels of the Dreadnought. However, the dense clouds of dust, ice and gases scrambled sensors, rendering them almost blind. The shields too were useless: the constant friction and lightning discharges had threatened to overload them before Achilles had ordered them powered down.

Now they were practically crawling through the thick murk, almost totally relying mostly on visual tracking. The sensors barely worked, range and resolution constantly changing as they passed through different mixes and densities of gases. Tension was running high throughout the ship as they pushed onwards. Viper pilots sat in their messes, stood down from alert: With the bays damaged, there was no way for them to land. The Gunships were also trapped within the larger ship, as the damage to the bays prevented them from taking off. Everyone knew that the Alliance ship was out there, somewhere.

Achilles was the only one who entertained doubts about that. The Alliance could have doubled back, left the nebula, and they wouldn't know about it until they too left. But what if they hadn't? The Alliance could hide out in here for years, dragging the war out long beyond that which the Colonials could sustain themselves. Achilles knew that there were only three ships that could take on this dreadnought; _Thunderchild, Galactica _& _Pegasus_. Neither battlestar was fully refitted yet, and while the Tigers had the killing power, they lacked the hull strength to go toe to toe with that...

Suddenly something angular loomed out of the murk, long hard edged spars jutting out from a central point. A point that was right on top of them...

"All hands, brace for impact!" The XO yelled, scrambling for a nearby hand rail. Around the bridge crewmen leaned forwards and griped the upper edges of their consoles, pushing themselves into their seats.

_Thunderchild_'s bow brushed against the object, and it shattered into thousands of shards. The raised arm that stretched over the prow ahead of the bridge crumbled as it was rolled along the hull, the fragments washing over the bridge like a wave.

Achilles breathed again. Ice. It had been a gigantic ice crystal, easily larger than a destroyer. But it had no strength to it. It had been as delicate as it had been threatening... and beautiful.

"Sir, sensors are clearing a little. Picking sensor shadows of other ice crystals."

"Very well. Helm, avoid them if you can." Achilles felt a stab of remorse for the destruction of the crystal they had run in to.

Slowly and gingerly _Thunderchild _picked her way through the ice field, twisting and rotating to slide between the spars of ice. As they though the gases cleared a little, allowing the crew to see more of the crystals, see some of the fine, pure structure...

A crystal ahead exploded, blasted apart with green flame. Streaks of green light lashed out from a shadowy form ahead, beyond the ice.

"Return fire!" Achilles bellowed. "Aim for the flashes!"

Red darts stabbed back at the shadow, which could now be seen to have the outline of the Dreadnought. Bright glares marked hits, before a volley of purple bolts shot back. A shiver ran through the ship as one struck a solid blow.

"Forward cannons, fire!"

Twin red-orange beams stabbed out, piercing the murk. One went high, and was slashed downward, slashing across the dreadnought just ahead of the engine spars. The other shot out in front and then was dragged along the whole length of the ship, over the portside plasma batteries. Flames erupted all along the gash in the Dreadnought's side.

But even as it slid back into the murk, it fired back. A pair of pulse cannon bolts smashed apart one of the beam laser emplacements. Others glanced off the armour on the starboard 'wing'.

Then one struck the stern, and the bridge was plunged into near darkness.


	35. The Wrath of Achilles

**DR: **It's easter time once more, and in the spirit of the holiday, I've decided to have a bumper update! First half today, the second on Easter Monday. And yes, this whole battle was modelled on the climax of Star Trek II.

* * *

Chapter 35: The Wrath of Achilles

For a few long, drawn out second Achilles feared that his ship was totally disabled. Then the emergency lights came on, and the panic that had begun to rise in the crews' guts began to subside. The consoles still worked, the systems checking out.

He turned to the major. "Damage?"

The major pressed his earpiece closer into his ear. "Chief reports one energiser down. We're running solely off Energiser One right now. Port forward laser is offline. Repair crews en-route to give detailed report."

Achilles nodded, sighing. Stepping back up onto the command podium he signalled the helmsman to turn after the Dreadnought.

Outside the gases closed in again, wrapping the battlecruiser in clouds and cloaking her damage, bright glows along her flanks. The once steady glow from her engines now spluttered, the overall glow dimmer than before. Barely able to make one-third speed, _Thunderchild_ pushed onwards.

After a couple of minutes they emerged into a more sparsely packed area... and the Alliance dreadnought was directly ahead!

"All guns, fire at will!"

The gunners eagerly opened up, hurling their deadly bolts at the black monster ahead. From out of the gas clouds the larger blue-white bolts from the main turrets emerged.

Explosions dotted the starboard surfaces of the dreadnought as the turbolasers rained down on it. Chunks of thick armour whirled away under the onslaught. Some of the gunners on _Thunderchild _focused their fire on the pulse cannon turrets, going for the segmented cowlings. One detonated in a cloud of dark red liquid, ragged chucks of dark flesh flying away as the barrels whirled off.

Along the dreadnought's flank plasma billowed before spitting out in a hail of bolts. Achilles winced as many of them splashed across his ship's bow, causing armour to bubble away. He wasn't sure how much more she could take...

The Dreadnought slid behind another thicker region of ice and cloud, her sensor profile breaking up even more. She had the same sensor jamming systems as the Nightbringers had, but her sheer size and mass negated it somewhat. But in this region of heavy interference it vanished with alarming ease.

"Sorry sir, we've lost her."

Achilles nodded, breathing deeply. "Bring her around."

They swung around slowly, watching every wisp of gas, trying to see beyond the static on the screens. Throughout this Achilles remained in his chair, eyes fixed forwards. He no longer inquired about status reports on the wounded or the damage. He trusted his XO to attend to what needed to be done. Achilles' sole attention now was on the game of Cat & Mouse they were playing the Alliance vessel.

"Slow ahead..." He ordered as they nosed into a denser patch. Visibility dropped to almost nothing as they inched forwards.

The gases began to clear when the sensor crewman yelled out. "Contact! Bearing zero, zero, zero, range one micron!" As the words sunk in the view outside cleared... to reveal the Alliance Dreadnought bow on to them, and closing!

"Hard a port!" Achilles yelled. _Thunderchild_'s prow swung to port sharply, rolling onto her port side as she did.

The Dreadnought opened fire, her forward beam slashing across _Thunderchild_'s belly. Fortunately the gunners were too eager and left only a long gash in the armour. Three pulse cannon bolts streaked out, two hitting, one breaching the landing bay cross passage.

A hail of red darts stabbed back, savaging the upper prow armour of the Dreadnought. Another pulse cannon turret was blown apart, jets of black liquid spurting out from where it had sat. Armour crumpled under the furious bombardment, whole sections blown out. A pair of the spines that jutted out from the starboard bow were blasted off, sent spinning deeper into the nebula. One of the two light beam lasers on _Thunderchild_'s flank had a shot, and it slashed up the side of the superstructure that rose up above the hull.

On the dreadnought's bridge the rumble of explosions grew to a fever pitch as consoles blew outwards. One of the crew who was sat near the front of the bridge was forcibly removed from their station, leaving parts of himself still connected as the rest of him was scattered over the deck. The person next to the unfortunate one didn't even flinch.

"Substantial damage to all decks." The XO intoned in a dead voice. "Fires across several sections. We're at forty-three percent combat capacity. Crew losses currently sixty-one percent."

"Damage to enemy?" The president asked, the eagerness and excitement clear in his tone.

"Unable to ascertain extent of damage, but her engines appear to be compromised." Through the window the sleek form of the Colonial ship slipped away, the murk hiding her once more.

"Bring us about. I want that ship..." The President ordered with malice.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Achilles frowned as he looked over the damage displays. Much of the outer hull was now shaded a light red, with some areas much brighter, indicating heavier damage. _'We can't take much more of this...' _he thought to himself. So far the ship was holding together, but the continued plasma based assaults were wearing down even the tough Colonial alloys.

Turning his chair about, he stared out at the gases outside the ship. They had been exchanging fire with the dreadnought on a fairly even basis. At this rate, they'd cripple each other...

Achilles looked at his console, then began to rapidly type in commands. Using whatever data they had gathered over the course of the battle along with a psychological profile of the Alliance Leadership, the computer built up a profile of the battle, and plotted the movements of the ships. It had to extrapolate the movements of the Alliance ship, but maybe...

The sequence played out before him. He ran it again, this time from another angle. On the third viewing, a small smile began to form on his face.

The Alliance commander was aggressive and determined, but not experienced. All his manoeuvres had the hallmarks of two-dimensional thinking...

"All stop." He ordered. "Fire docking thrusters, take us down fifteen hundred metres, straight down."

He could see the confusion on the faces of his crew, but they carried out his orders.

_Thunderchild _came to a halt in a relatively clear area. Then slowly she began to sink downwards, the wisps of gases drifting over her form.

For a long minute nothing moved beyond the slow drifting of gas. Then a dark prow pushed its way through. It swelled out into an array of black spines, before leading into a scarred and mutated hull. It seemed to go on and on, before finally four engine arms branched from the rear end of the hull.

On the bridge of the Dreadnought the President leaned forwards as much as he could. "Where is she?" He asked quietly.

The dreadnought pushed forwards, sensors sweeping the area ahead of her.

They should have looked behind.

_Thunderchild _rose up, her bow swinging around to point at the dreadnoughts stern. Slowly she began to inch after the monster, following her.

On the bridge everyone was tense. They'd seen the Dreadnought pass over head on the scanners, but Achilles had ordered them to hold fire. He was looking for a killer blow.

Now the scanner was clouded again, but they could still see the wake in the gases that the dreadnought left.

"Look sharp..." He muttered, staring so hard it was if he was trying to burn the gases away with his mind.

Then the gases thinned, and the imposing bulk of the dreadnought emerged dead ahead. The sensors chimed with a hard lock.

"Fire!"

A hail of bolts rained down all over the back of the dreadnought, smashing armour and burning away organic material. The remaining heavy beam unit stabbed into the heart of one of the engines, burning right through. As fire erupted from the unit, more flames burst from various points on the main hull as the power grid was overloaded. A pulse cannon turret simply vanished as it was struck by a megalaser blast, while other bolts blasted deep into the monster. The beam stabbed out once more, first slicing right through one of the engine spars before carving into the hull where the starboard side plasma batteries were. The beam burned deep, carving through several plasma conduits. The released plasma greedily burned through the ship, creating a vast pressure wave that built until the entire side of the ship blew outwards. The forces generated caused the entire ship to twist, the keel bending under the pressure. On the port side hull plates were pulled apart as the ship flexed and bent, releasing the atmosphere within.

Within her hull the dark corridors and cabins were filled with light as fire tore throughout the ship, consuming everything in its path. Consoles exploded into lethal hails of shrapnel while crew were tossed about like rag dolls. Those who weren't burnt alive were often left gasping in the smoke filled air, or found themselves being sucked out of the ship via one of the many breaches that pockmarked the hull.

The dreadnought began to drift, her engines dimming to a faint glow. Flames jetted from all over her hull, and she was starting to tumble.

On the ruined bridge smoke hung thick in the air. The XO was crushed to a pulp, while the other crewmen were slumped in their chairs, or thrown bodily over their consoles. The Blue Sun Director stared down with lifeless eyes at a massive spar of rebar that emerged from his chest, slick with his blood, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

The President's chair was on its side. Empty.

Slowly a burnt hand reached up over a ruined console. It gripped shakily before the muscles in the arm tightened, dragging the man it was attached to up. The President's left arm was hanging loose, the bones clearly broken. The right rear quarter of his head was nothing but charred skin, the scarring wrapping around onto his cheek and forehead.

The comm crackled. _"Attention Alliance Dreadnought. You are ordered to surrender your vessel, respond."_

The president looked at one of the screens, then out the forward window, at what had held their attention until the attack. Then he turned his head, and began to drag himself towards a side console. Every movement was pained filled, and when he collapsed to the deck he nearly curled up and gave in.

"_Come in Alliance dreadnought. You are ordered to surrender your vessel. Please respond."_

The words spoken over the comm seemed to spur him on, and with a final effort he reached the console. Pausing to take deep, ragged breaths, he looked at the screen that displayed the Colonial ship that was idling behind his own.

"Oh no..." he rasped out. "...it's not over yet."

He faced the console before him; it was one of the few that were still intact. Reaching out, he gasped when his burnt fingers pushed down on the various switches and buttons. The screen flickered on, displaying the view backwards. Grasping the small yoke, he ignore the pain that shot through him as he panned the view until the bulk of the colonial ship filled the view, one of the rents in her armour lined up in the crosshairs. Gasping, he pulled the trigger.

Near the rear of the Dreadnought there was a blast of gas, and a heavy harpoon shot out, trailing a massively thick cable. It flew straight and true, slipping through a gap in _Thunderchild_'s armour and digging deep within the battlecruiser.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Report!" Achilles bellowed.

"They've fired a grappling harpoon into us. Looks like it went in through a breach in the armour."

A jolt ran through the ship as the cable went taunt. And then a transmission came through, laced with static.

"_To the last... I grapple with thee..." _The voice on the other end emitted a pain filled laugh, one of madness.

"Sir, we being dragged forwards. There's a powerful gravity well in the region..."

Achilles looked up, beyond the Dreadnought. "Oh frack..." he breathed.

Ahead he saw the answer to all the questions regarding this 'nebula'. Why it was so dense in regard to a normal nebula, why it had such an effect on their systems. And most critically, why no other ship had ever returned.

Lying in the centre of the Forlorn Nebula was an open region, marked only by a slowly spinning disk. The centre spun faster than the rim, the light becoming brighter the closer one got. And then at the centre... nothing. Total blackness.

A black hole.

* * *

**Mal: **(*swears in chinese*)

**O'Neill: **Ah crap!


	36. Unto the Last, Grapple with Thee…

**DR: **And here's the second installment, concluding the final battle. Hang on to your seats, it's going to be a bumpy ride...

* * *

Chapter 36: Unto the Last, Grapple with Thee…

"Full power to engines!" Achilles bellowed, shocking his crew out of their stunned states. "Bring us hard about and get us out of here!" Achilles was not normally one to yell at his crew, but there were a few times and situations that warranted it.

Staring down the mouth of a black hole at close range was one of them.

With real fear in their hearts the crew threw themselves into their tasks, and quickly the engines were firing hard. The bow swung about till it was pointed back the way they came. Yet despite the engines being run as hard as they could go they were still being dragged backwards.

"Fire control, sever that line! The dreadnought is dragging us in!" Achilles ordered.

Behind them the Dreadnought groaned and creaked as it was stressed by the conflicting forces. The black hole eagerly pulled at it, driven by an all consuming hunger. The stresses were already pulling at weakened members, and a number of hull plates, loosened by the final blow, broke away from the hulk.

The flickering engines of _Thunderchild_ were not enough to cease the descent, and slowly but surely the battlecruiser was dragged backwards, snared by the deadweight that was latched on.

Around her stern smaller laser turrets twisted and pivoted, trying to get an angle on the cable that linked the two ships. However, the cable lay almost flush with the hull for much of the ships length, making it impossible for the guns to get a bead on it. After a few more seconds, the turrets readjusted and opened fire at where the cable emerged from the dreadnought. Laser bolts crashed into the armour, digging for the winch drum.

"Come on... get us loose!" Achilles muttered, watching the screen as more lasers fired on the dreadnought. As he watched more bits were ripped from the ship and shot towards the black hole. A pair of spines slowly tore off, before spinning down into the depths.

Then a megalaser turret fired, the heavy bolts smashing the entire region were the cable emerged. There was a sharp jolt, and out of the explosion the end of the cable could be seen whipping about.

"That's it, we're loose! Get us out of here!"

The helmsman pushed his level forwards, but then slowly sagged in his seat.

"Sorry sir, but it's too late. We don't have the power to break free."

"How long before full power won't save us?" Achilles asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer. The crewman hammered the calculations out.

"Little under four minutes sir."

Achilles dropped his hand onto the intercom. "Engineering? We need full power in three minutes or we're all dead!"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Down in Engineering, Kaylee popped her head out from under the vast energiser she had been working on. She and River had come down to help out when a number of the ship's own engineers had been hurt. "Three minutes? Why?" She asked fearfully.

River, eyes wide, pointed a trembling finger at the cloth tool kit bag Kaylee had been using. When she turned her head to look, Kaylee gasped.

The top flap had been hanging over the edge. Now though it no longer hung vertically, as it should, but at an angle, wavering slightly as if in a light breeze.

Kaylee looked at River, then at the _Thunderchild_'s chief engineer. His eyes were almost round with fear.

"Black hole..." He whispered.

"Oh." Kaylee replied in a very small voice. She then almost threw herself back underneath the energiser.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Groans filled the air as the frame buckled and twisted underneath the horrific forces that were tearing the ship apart. When one of the remaining engines had been ripped off it had produced a terrible screaming and tearing sound as the metal and organic material were stretched beyond what they could take. Every few seconds something snapped loudly, the squeal of shearing metal dragging on nerves.

The President leaned against the console, his breath coming in gasps. He looked at the screen that showed the slowly shrinking image of the Colonial ship, its engines flickering.

"No..." He chuckled, blood welling over his lip. "No, you can't get away." A cruel smile twisted his lips.

"For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee...e...e..."

His hands fell away from his stilled chest.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Achilles stood, too nervous to sit, before his chair. He watched the screen that showed the region behind them. Central to the background was the black hole, a dark tear in space. Just in front of it, visible against the accretion disk, was the Alliance dreadnought, which appeared to be twisting even further.

"Time?"

"One minute, twelve seconds." Was his answer.

To the rear of the bridge Apollo and Sheba stood together, arms wrapped around each other. "We're not going to make it, are we?" She whispered.

Apollo didn't have the heart to confirm that. The groans from the ships frame told her that.

At the stern of the ship the groans of stressed metal were louder and more frequent. The first time Kaylee had frozen, shocked at how pained it sounded. Now they only served to spur her on as she raced between various bits of burnt and damaged machinery, switching feeds and bypassing systems. This was no time to be neat and correct: they needed the power now.

A gasp rose from the lower bridge level as on the large screen they watched as the Alliance dreadnought began to break into two, the forward section twisting around the shattered region. Parts and debris were raining off the ship now, ripped away by the terrifying intensity of the black hole. Much of the organic material had been pulled off, ripping off vast strips of metal.

Suddenly the ship snapped apart, the forward section tumbling down the gravity well, its last connections dragging the stern into a spin. Unable to handle the combined stressed, the rear section began to come apart at the seams, metal peeling off the hull frighteningly quickly. It was as if every weld and bolt that held the stern together had failed at once, and now it was shattering.

The bow section slowly tumbled as it accelerated further. At this range, not even the Colonial systems could record all the details of the ship's destruction.

Down in Engineering, Kaylee struggled to move forwards. The effect of the black hole was strong enough that trying to walk along the deck was like climbing a steep hill. Behind her the space around the damaged energiser was a rats nest of various cables, many ripped from other, non-vital systems, all cross patched and spliced together. In her hand she held one last cable, the final one to plug in.

Kaylee leaned forwards, trying to make those last few steps to reach the open panel...

Suddenly a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her forwards. She crashed into Jayne's chest, knocking the breath out of her for a moment. Then the strong merc pushed her forwards to the open hatch, and she focused on patching the cable in...

Achilles could feel the tug of the black hole himself, trying to drag him to the rear of the ship. The force shields were at max power, but not even they could completely neutralise the awesome power of a black hole. On the screen before him a duel set of numbers were counting down, faster and faster. One showed the distance to the point of no return as calculated by the ship's computer; the other showed the time. Both would hit zero at the same moment...

The intercom squawked. _"Okay, try it now!"_ Kaylee's voice resounded.

"Firing up energiser two."

Kaylee hung on as she stared at the massive energiser as it whined and stuttered. It rose and fell, rose and fell, almost stalled, and then roared with pure power, almost deafeningly loud. Her shriek of elation was lost in the noise as the energiser spun up to full speed.

"Sir! Energiser two at full power!" A bridge crewman called out excitedly.

"Punch it!"

The flickering engines of the battlecruiser flared, returning to full brilliance. Great tongues of white erupted forth, pushing against the relentless force of the singularity. The entire ship groaned and strained as two titanic forces battled for supremacy. Every eye on the bridge was focused on the numbers, which were slowing down. The question on everyone's mind was 'was it soon enough?'

"Come on big T, you can beat this..." Achilles whispered to his ship as the time figure began to rise slightly as the ships systems recalculated. All around them the ships members groaned and strained...

There were sharp intakes of breath as the distance fell below one thousand meters... then they stopped falling. For several long moments nobody dared to breath, let alone move.

Then the number clicked up by one. Then two.

And then the numbers began to rise steadily.

Cheers erupted throughout the bridge as the distance went above one thousand again. From the bridge the cheering and celebrations passed down the ship, the hull ringing with voices raised in joy, drowning out the groans of the ships hull.

When it reached Engineering Jayne hollered loudly, and Kaylee smiled as she stroked the console. "That's a girl." She smiled widely, just as Simon wrapped her up in his arms.

"You're a genius..." He whispered into her ear, sending a pleasant shiver running down her spine.

Mal smirked as he embraced Inara. They both watched as Simon and Kaylee's hug transformed into a passionate make-out session, while Jayne continued to holler.

Then Saffron stepped up and latched herself around him.

Mal frowned, unsure as how to take this development.

He would have frowned even more if he'd heard what she'd whispered to the big mercenary.

"You. Me. Bunk. Now."

* * *

**DR: **And we're done. (*Listens to cheers coming from the others*) We've got a couple more chapters to go, just tidying up a few loose ends. And laying a few new leads for a continuation... (*chuckles*)


	37. From Zi Born

**DR: **I have a confession to make here. The second part of this chapter, mostly written by Zaion, was originally going to be an epliogue. However, as we didn't what to have anything after the ending I wrote, we decided to move it here. It's partly why last chapter was so short...

* * *

Chapter 37: From Zi Born

Achilles sighed as he allowed himself to sink down onto the bunk in his cabin. It had been a long fortnight. The tense battle with the Alliance dreadnought – and the subsequent battle with the black hole – had been draining, but then they had to oversee the rounding up of any remaining Alliance personal. And then they had to step in and put a stop to looters and other criminal types taking control. And then help set up a simple government, one that could hold the system together until a proper diplomatic team from Zi could arrive to assist the locals in creating a proper Colonial style government. And, and...

Everything had dragged on, and it had been draining on both ship and crew. Apollo had taken his gunships out almost all the time, running down criminals and thugs. Starbuck and Boomer were almost dead on their feet thanks to the sheer number of launches they'd made to cut off lingering Alliance craft. And Achilles himself had been in so many meetings with so many obtuse, stubborn and arrogant people that he felt like he'd been bashing his head against warship grade armour for the whole week. Several times he'd found himself reaching for his laser, which he'd fortunately left in his quarters each time to prevent an incident.

But now, finally, they had hammered out a temporary agreement. The body of the Blue Sun Corporation had been torn apart by the directors of each branch, and then further shredded by local outlets and manufacturers. The Super-Corp was in tatters, and several times they'd raided secret sites, often burning them to the ground. Now each world was governed by local people, with the local needs first. A lot of smaller criminal groups were being hunted down right now. The larger and more organised groups would require Colonial attention. But that would have to wait. Achilles' small group of ships were too battered to take on the role just now.

But that was down to the local forces. Now, at last, _Thunderchild _and her two destroyer consorts could return home, to Zi. It wasn't really 'home', as such. But maybe one day it would.

Achilles laid back, allowing his eyes to drift shut. He was too tired to even consider removing his uniform...

The door chime sounded.

Gritting his teeth, Achilles hauled himself upright and stepped back into the outer part of his quarters, hoping that however it was could be persuaded to leave very quickly...

Any sharp retort died on his lips when the hatch slid open to reveal Athena stood before him, dressed once more in that cream dress. She smiled warmly at him, though there was a hint of tiredness in her eyes.

"May I come in Colonel?"

"Uh... oh! Sure." He stepped back enough to allow her through. The hatch slid shut behind her, barely closing before he found her wrapping her arms around him and dragging him into a burning kiss. Stunned by her sudden attack, Achilles retained enough presence of mind to wrap his own arms around her. After several glorious seconds their heads drifted apart, and she allowed herself to sink down a little before resting her head against his collarbone.

"Damn your heroic tendencies." She muttered, though he could tell there was no real heat behind her words.

He shrugged slightly. "I did what had to be done."

"And nearly threw yourself into a black hole."

"Well... can you think of a better place for those... people?"

She thought for a moment, her brow furrowed. "No, I can't."

As they stood there, encircled in each others arms, Achilles realised something. "Athena?"

"Hmm?"

"How are you here? I mean, I ordered your ship on ahead to Zi for repairs..."

Athena smiled cheekily. "I gave my First Officer the assignment, then hitched a ride over here before she left."

Achilles frowned. "I was not aware of any shuttle landing..."

"I called my brother on his way back from patrol."

"Ah."

They stood together for a few more minutes, more than content to simply stand there in each others arms. At last Athena spoke again.

"Don't you have a bunk around here somewhere?" She asked her voice filled with weariness.

"Right this way."

Very quickly they were lying together, arms wrapped around each other. Both were content to just hold each other, too weary for passion to ignite. Athena looked at his face, creased with fatigue lines, before snuggling in a little closer.

"This is nice..." He commented.

"Ummhmmm..." She purred, allowing her eyes to drift closed. She could easily get used to this...

"Achilles?"

"Yes?"

Athena hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Achilles gently stroked her cheek, reassuring her.

"We've never really talked about being... sealed, have we?"

Achilles opened his eyes, looking at her curiously. "No, not really..."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Kane sighed as he thought back over the last couple of months. The return of the Colonial Movers ship from the Blue Sun system had been a cause of relief for many people. It had been a calculated risk sending the lightly armed freighter through, given the intel they had from the initial venture.

The reports she had carried back had been deeply disquieting though. Shortly before arriving at the Blue Sun end of the wormhole linking the systems, the freighter had received a set of coded reports, to be delivered to Adama, Cain, Kane and Christian.

Achilles had opened with the good news. The many upgrades to the battlecruiser had all performed as expected. They had made contact with many of the 'grass roots' people, and gathered considerable intelligence. He also praised Athena on her handling of a Reaver attack on a passenger liner. Her after action report was included in the package.

But it was the other reports that were worrying. The Alliance government's persistence in attacking them had cost the Alliance dearly. Achilles' report on the varied living conditions between the worlds was sickening; the central worlds were clean, sanitised and sterile, ordered and marshalled. The mid-range worlds played host to cities with people packed in worse than the refugee ships of the fleet had been. The outer worlds were harsh, barren and struggling.

Worse though, had been the last two reports: those that detailed the Alliance's boarding attempt and the engagement with the _Nightbringer_ cruiser.

Kane had shivered with revulsion as he had read the autopsy report on the Alliance's shock troopers. Those creatures were less than human, twisted into monsters. But their existence was overshadowed by the _Nightbringer_ report.

That ship embodied everything Kane feared and despised. It was crude and messily applied, but he knew the source material. He'd altered history itself in attempt to ensure that things like _that _would not come to pass.

It had been many long hours before he had emerged from his private quarters afterwards, Auri with him the whole time.

Once back out, he'd thrown himself into analysing the data _Thunderchild _had gathered on the vessel. The more he examined the more crude and primitive it had looked. In fact, had the implications not been so serious he would have laughed at the bungled mess the alliance had made.

But the thought about what else might be out there in the black had given him extra impetus to work on his varied projects, including the one he was bringing the various leaders to see.

Kane glanced over at Christian, whose was speaking quietly with Adama. If it hadn't been for those two old warriors, he would have been heading for the Blue Sun system right now, preparing to raise seven kinds of hell. However, both men had talked him down, given him some perspective. This project still needed his guidance; it could have been put back months, even a year, had he left then. No, it was best that he remain here, complete the development of these new craft, and allow Achilles, Athena, Apollo and Sheba to handle things with the Alliance. They all knew about Kane's past, or at least as much as he would tell them. Only Christian and Adama knew the whole truth.

Kane glanced again at the silver haired former Colonial Commander. He really was a special man. Part father figure, part spiritual guide, part military leader. The man inspired trust, and Kane had surprisingly found himself telling him all. He had taken it calmly, all things considered.

Soon now he'd be able to head out with the fleet. The bulk of the development work was done, now it was a matter of application and deployment. Already divisions of labour had been formed for the rebuilding of the Colonial Military; Champ Industries, based in Europa, handled the refinement of materials and initial construction. Schbaltz Inc. dealt with the avionics and computers. The Colonials themselves provided supervision, while Ultima Industries made the weapon systems. The Ancient City, with its central location, was the site of final construct for the smaller craft, such as Vipers and Darkstars, and the launch point for components of the larger destroyers and battlestars. Cargo Whale Kings flew into the city almost hourly now, delivering assembled components.

Soon a program for the people of Zi to join the Colonial Military would be in place. Zi was gearing up for a war unlike anything it had seen before.

And now, thanks to Kane, the burden of that war would not rest solely on the Colonial Fleet anymore.

With a lurch the massive cargo elevator that Richter and his guests stood on began to lower into the giant platform which rose above the stormy sea around it, leaving behind the pair of shuttles which had delivered his guests to this remote location of Zi.

Richter Kane stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest as the platform he was on lowered itself into the depths of the planet. The wind from the dimly lit tunnel that he was descending into caused his white lab-coat to flap, as well as attempting to mess up the hair of the figures that stood gathered behind him on the platform. Auri stood at his left side, a smirk on her face as she anticipated what was to come. To his right stood Christian Masters, his face impassive but a faint twinkle in his eye as he anticipated the reactions of most of those gathered behind them. Besides Richter, Auri, and the technicians working on the project, Christian was the only other person present who had witnessed what lay deep beneath this remote section of the ocean, within one of Richter's most secretive and secure research facilities.

The remaining occupants on the platforms were the leaders of the Helic Republic, the Guylos Empire, and the Colonials, along with Commanders Adama & Cain, plus the two men who a month ago Christian and Richter together had chosen to be captains of Richter's greatest creations to date. Both were good men who had served in the Helic and Guylos militaries respectively, and who had shown an outstanding grasp of strategy and a flexibility that was vital to a starship captain.

Finally, after what had felt like hours to the waiting bureaucrats and politicians, the tunnel disappeared as the platform descended below the ceiling of a massive cavern. Richter could hear gasps of surprise from behind him as his gathered guests got their first look at the massive chamber Richter had buried deep beneath the planet's crust. The room was huge, several times longer than even the _Galactica_. It was lit by huge glowing lights hanging from the ceiling in a grid pattern, and at the far end of the long chamber they could just make out the forms of a pair of massive hatches. To the Colonials it was blatantly obvious that these were some form of airlock, but the Zi-born members of the contingent were mostly confused when they saw them. But it was what sat near to them at the base of the massive chamber that drew their attention.

The floor of the chamber was comprised of several large bays, six across and three deep. In five of the closest, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of zoids, organoids, and suited figures scurrying here and there on a myriad of tasks, sat five massive forms that resembled sharks from Earth-that-was. Two were painted a deep purple, one with highlights of a regal blue while the other bore markings of a deep blood red. Two more were currently encased in massive crystalline cocoons, one a dark-green like the leaves of the forest, the other a brilliant shimmering rainbow of colours. There was very little activity around these two except for a small group of Blade Raptors that appeared to be simply walking around the surface of the cocoons, periodically stopping and analyzing the surface.

Suddenly the fifth and final vessel, sat in the cradle directly before where the platform was descending, began to rise into the air, a deep base thrum filling the room with vibrations that all of the gathered people could feel in their very bones. This fifth one was larger than the others and black, as black as a starless night, with the exception of some silver and grey around the various weapons sticking out of the front of the top and bottom curves of the hull, the only part that the gathered bureaucrats could now see, and the pair of forward facing dark red eyes that glowed along the sides of the head. It would have been able to completely disappear had the lights in the chamber gone out.

In the very centre of the intimidating visage that now sat before them a triangular formation of cylindrical gun barrels projected, ringing a blood red circle on the surface of the vessel. As they watched in awe, surprise, and fear the cylinder suddenly irised open and a gun barrel poked its way out, panels all along it opening and folding out as the weapon extended and began deploying itself. Richter had planned this display to the second, intending to use it to express fully the power of his creation to the often obtuse and stubborn politicians who stood behind him.

As the largest Charged Particle Cannon in existence finished deploying itself before the gathered Heads-of-State of the ruling governments of Zi Richter Kane smiled and turned, throwing his arms wide to his side and above his head as he spoke loudly and clearly.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Zi's answer to interplanetary warfare. From now on we can shoulder our burden of the war that we all know is coming." He said theatrically, his wife matching the smile on his face. On his other side Christian smirked at the shocked looks on the faces of the politicians, so much like his own had been when Richter had shown him this exact same sight a few months before. Both Adama and Cain had been informed of this project at the same time, and were also smiling. "The Grand Kaiser."

A loud roar echoed through the chamber as from the top of the tip of the Charged Particle Cannon barrel as an almost pure-ivory and platinum t-rex based zoid made it self known, its body a massive collection of weaponry. Its roar was met by an answering shriek as five avian zoids flew across the bow of the vessel, dropping over the T-rex' head as they flew past. Richter's creations were welcoming their brethren into the world.

* * *

**DR: **A fuller description, through the eyes of Achilles, will be in the next and final chapter. We'll touch base with all our cast... till then!


	38. A New Dawn

Chapter 38: A New Dawn

The trip through the wormhole went without incident, contrary to Achilles fears'. _Thunderchild_ made it through without breaking apart, or having anymore systems fail. They had been forced to take energiser two offline again shortly after leaving the Forlorn Nebula. Kaylee's rewiring was placing strain on systems that weren't designed to take such loads. Sooner or later, there would have been a whole string of other, smaller failures.

Now though, they were back in the Zi system. And for the first time in weeks the communication suite was nearly silent. While they had been in the Blue Sun system there had been constant background chatter and transmissions across most of the Gamma frequency band, plus quite a bit on the lower Beta band. But now most of the bands were silent.

As they moved away from the wormhole's location, Achilles sat back in his chair, relaxing. Ahead lay the planet of Zi, little larger than a marble. A series of pinpricks of lights close by marked the Colonial station that now orbited above the world.

A much brighter and larger set of lights showed ships close by.

Achilles sat up as a channel on Fleet Line Alpha came through from the _Galactica_. "Commander Tigh. Good to see you."

On the screen the dark skinned Tigh nodded in greeting. _"And you colonel. What is the situation on the other side?"_

"Stable, for the moment. Local authorities are holding things together right now, but there are several pirate bands and criminal gangs out there that could cause chaos if given the chance." Achilles smiled lightly. "There's a lot of people eager to be our friends though. Almost desperately so."

A smirked threatened to form on Tigh's face. _"That is not really surprising. You've done a good job Achilles. Now it's time for the diplomats to take over. We'll be heading over in a few microns."_

"Good luck Commander. Some of them are quite... stubborn."

That smirk finally emerged. _"Oh, I think Adama and Illa will be more than a match for anyone over there. Send over your mission logs and reports so they know what to expect. And transfer across Blue Squadron. Captain Starbuck's presence here is urgently required."_

Achilles smiled as he looked over to his XO, who nodded and leaned over the comm station, then glanced at his flight controller, who was already bent to his task. "Sending them over now sir."

"_Good. See you in a few weeks Colonel. In the meantime get some rest."_

Achilles smiled. "Aye sir."

A minute later the two ships began to pass one another. Achilles took the time to look over the aging Battlestar. _Galactica_'s hull had had an extensive makeover. Much like her younger, smaller cousin _Thunderchild,_ the hull was smoother, less cluttered. Much like the bow had been before armour was layered along her whole length now. Her silhouette was slightly altered, his keen eyes noticed. The region between the flight pod cross-passage and the bow had been filled in. Large hatches could be made out on the underside.

Galactica had five consorts with her. Three were Guardians, fresh out of their own refits. The other two were a pair of large intimidating vessels that were clearly zoids by their sleek, shark-like forms with organic-mimicking plated hulls, and the fact that both were painted a deep purple colour, though one had regal blue highlights while the other had blood red. The heads of the vessels sloped gently from a flat edge towards the rear of the vessel with an array of ports along the top and bottom that just screamed weapons to Achilles' experienced eye. At the centre of this array on the top portion, what would have been the forehead of a biological shark, was a trio of what looked like Cylon Megalasers arranged in a triangle around a black circle.

From the back of the heads the bodies of the strange vessels flowed backwards, the outer hull seemingly comprised of layer after layer of interlocked and overlapping plates. The body widened slowly until about halfway down its length where a pair of fins dropped to either side at a shallow angle and a third, longer fin rose from the vessels' spines. Achilles could see numerous bays along the vessels' sides and bellies that were clearly for fighters and transports, while all along its length there were more of those concealed weapons ports that had dotted the front of the pair. The gently curving panelling surrounding said weapons did not appear to follow any particular pattern, but rather appeared to be arrayed in a more biological design.

From the back of the three main fins the body began to shrink in steps until it narrowed into what looked like the tail fin of a shark, the top larger and more flared back than the bottom, with two minuscule fins each side at the base of both. As Thunderchild passed further along Achilles was able to make out the array of engines that were nestled in the rear of the tail fins, answering the question as to how the vessels were propelling themselves.

It was only as the vessels passed from view that one feature of the plating that had struck Achilles as odd finally sank in. It had been subtle, but the plating had reminded him suspiciously of the organic plating of the Nightbringers, in particular the bows of those mutated monsters. Looking around the bridge he was relieved to see that no one else had appeared to have noticed this slight detail. He would have to remember to ask Commander Adama about this as soon as he had the opportunity.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Ten minutes later _Thunderchild _was finally easing into the slipway that had been prepared for her. Hundreds had crowded onto the arms, there to cheer for the ship. However, as her scars came into sight many fell silent. Most of them had never seen the full scale of battle damage that could be inflicted.

As the ship came to a halt, docking clamps extended out before wrapping around the battered ship. Waiting near the main boarding tube, the Blitz team stood, watching through the main windows that were to each side. Each was filled with views of the battlecruiser's battered and charred hull.

After a couple more minutes the hatch opened, and the crew began to troop out. The gathered crowds found their voice once more, and the hall was filled with cheering.

As the crew moved into the crowd, Bit could see Commander Cain stood off to one side like they were, clearly waiting. But then Doc called out.

"Vega, Miranda!"

Both late teens rushed forwards to be embraced within the team as a whole. Sarah laid an arm around her son, smiling sweetly at him. In her other arm she held the sleeping Hera; while they'd been off on the mission, Apollo and Sheba had entrusted her to look after their daughter.

As the team reformed together, Achilles, Athena, Apollo and Sheba all came over to greet them themselves. Back slapping hugs, Colonial handshakes and warm embraces went all around as the friends reconnected. Sarah handed little Hera, awoken by the commotion, back to her mother. Sheba felt a tear come to her eye as she looked down into the eyes of her and Apollo's child, who smiled back up at her.

"Hello sweetie... Mommy's back."

"And a good thing too." Cain's voice behind her made Sheba whirl around. "I missed you."

"Father..." Sheba choked out before wrapping an arm around him. Enfolding both his daughter and granddaughter in a fatherly embrace, Cain sighed deeply in happiness.

"So how were things Vega?" Bit asked the younger man, his arm around Leena, both grinning widely.

Vega smiled back. "Interesting. Certainly a whole new experience." Without meaning to his eyes flickered to Miranda, who was talking to Cassandra Cortez.

Bit smirked when he saw the blush that touched his cheeks. "Find out what's so great about women eh?"

Vega's face paled in mortification.

"Bit, stop teasing him." Leena elbowed her husband lightly. "Otherwise..." she leaned up and whispered something into his ear... something that caused him to flush bright red himself.

Looking around at their extended family, Leon frowned slightly. "Where are Mal and his crew?" He asked Achilles.

"They decided to stay on the other side for a bit. Visit old stomping grounds." Achilles reassured him, even as he was still wondering about the oddity he had noticed with those two new space-worthy zoids.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Despite all the years and the changes, the land was still the same, Mal reflected. The old ranch was spread out below him, at the bottom of the small hill he was stood on. The fence on which he leaned had clearly been repainted at some point since he'd last stood there, but the view was the same. The buildings were at the foot of the hill, the pastures reaching out towards the horizon.

Mal hadn't been back since he'd left to join the Independents. After the war was over, he'd drifted across Hera for a time before finding _Serenity_. His ship now rested just behind the main building. Some of the old hands from his memories were still here, and greeted him eagerly. They were right now throwing one hell of a shindig down there. He could hear the music and laughter up here.

And yet... while he normally enjoyed such events, this time Mal found it hard to get into the mood. He'd found himself craving a bit of silence... a bit of solitude. And so he'd come up here, to his old haunt. It had been where he'd come to think things through when he had been younger.

"They said I'd find you up here."

Mal turned his head to look at Inara as she seemed to almost glide towards him, one hand running along the old top rail. She smiled warmly as she reached him, coming to a stop at his side, barely an inch from him. Wordlessly he lifted his hand off the rail, and with barely a sound she slipped within the arc of his arm and snuggled against him as he brought his arm back down around her back.

After several long moments she sighed. "What's troubling you Mal?"

"Don't rightly know 'Nara." He answered slowly. "This was my home, but..."

"But now it's not." She finished for him.

"Yeah..." Mal sighed, surprised slightly at the truthfulness of that statement. He wasn't surprised that Inara could tell though.

"Mal, I understand. So would they. You've spent several years now living in her. You've fought and bled for her. It's only natural." She paused for a few moments. "I felt the same way while I was at the training house."

"Did ya now?" He felt her nod her head slowly.

"Yes, I kept on expecting to see you or Kaylee come round the next corner." Another pause. "I even found myself missing your interruptions."

They stood together for a while longer, silently looking out over the plains as the evening drew on. Towards the horizon, the sky was turning a deep purple, while the far edges of the few clouds in the sky were edged in gold.

"Why did you never talk about all this Mal?" Inara asked quietly.

Mal shrugged. "Never really saw the need. Quite dull to tell the truth. Why you ask?"

"Oh, just wondering what kind of family we'd make."

Mal froze for a moment. "You mean kids, don't you?"

Inara sighed. "Mal, I may have kept my youth, but that part of me was not affected by the drug. I don't know how much longer I have before..." She trailed off.

"Well..." Mal paused, thinking. When he'd been younger, he'd entertained notions of starting a family with some local girl, settling down, raising a few sprigs. But the war happened, and nearly everything had been burned or torn out of him. Now, after several years, he'd regained most of what he'd lost, but still... "I doubt I'd be a good father 'Nara. Didn't really have an example to follow."

Inara smiled sadly. "I hear you once said you'd be a terrible husband, but you've turned out alright." She gave him a squeeze.

Mal couldn't help but smile a bit. "Yeah well... that's different. A little kid's a whole different set of circumstances."

"Well, you'll have at least nine months to figure out that you'll be a good man."

Mal frowned. There was something in her tone... "What are you saying 'Nara?"

"Nothing. Yet." She said with a smile as she disengaged from him enough to look him in the eye. "Now... are you coming back now?"

Smiling back, Mal followed her back down the path. This old ranch may no longer be home to him... but it didn't matter, as he knew where it was now. It was in space, in _Serenity_, with Inara.

And maybe a child or two.

"Coming, Mrs Reynolds."

X-X-X-X-X-X

Vega smiled as he looked out over the flat plains before him. They had returned home two weeks ago, just in time to catch the end of season break. They'd spent that time getting back into the groove of Zoid battles, training with the rest of the team.

He had to admit, it was good to be back on their home world. Fury had been a lot more comfortable ever since he'd set foot on the dirt of Zi. Their adventure to the Blue Sun System had been exciting, but as the saying went, 'there was no place like home'.

Naomi and Brad's third child had unexpectedly been a boy, much to Brad's delight, who they'd named Daniel. Janet was speaking odd words now, and the others were certainly active.

The greetings between the zoids had almost been as lively as the one between humans. In the process, Vega had noted that the Liger and Iggy appeared to be staying very close together...

The Blitz had hosted a great party once again, to celebrate several events. Victory over the Alliance, Mal and Inara's marriage, the birth of the third Hunter child and the engagement of Achilles and Athena. All their friends had been there, old and new. The party had gone on late. Very few had gotten up until noon the next day.

But this morning everyone was up bright and early, eager to begin. It was the first day of the new season of zoid battles, and the Blitz were up!

Motion in the corner of his eye drew Vega's attention, and he turned to see the Liger Zero coming to a stop, the Iguanosaur alongside. To his left Leon drew up in his Blade Liger, while just beyond him were Brad and Naomi. Overhead Jamie and Pierce looped together before settling into a hover.

"Hey Vega." Vega smiled widely as Miranda's smirking face appeared on a comm screen as her lithe Blade Raptor sidled up alongside Fury. "Feeling okay? I did keep you up late last night..."

"Mir..." Vega whined as a blush began to form. They'd spent much of last night together in another passionate make out session. Now all four hands tended to wander in the course of these sessions. But last night... After she'd guided him inside her shirt again – which Vega had to admit was _very _nice – she'd surprised him by dropping a hand down into his lap, touching _him._ It had been a frighteningly intense moment.

"Hey love birds." Bit's words startled them both. Looking up, Vega could see just about everybody's face in their own windows on the canopy. "You ready, or should we tell the other team that we need a few more minutes?" Bit continued, a cheeky smile on his face.

Vega felt his face burn as he grasped the controls. "No no... we're good."

Back in the Hover Cargo Sarah smiled as we gazed on her grown son's face. She knew him too well to be fooled. Ever since they'd gotten back she'd been keeping an eye on him and Miranda, so she knew about their habit of sneaking off for a bit. She had decided not to confront them about it, thus far.

A streak of fire came down and landed on a nearby butte. Out of the dust rose the Judge Capsule. Swinging open, the robotic judge within gazed out over the field. As it began the standard pre-match speech, Vega felt his blood start to quicken as his grip tightened a little.

"**The Blitz Team Vs The Guylos Team. Battle mode 0982. Ready... FIGHT!"**

The End

**

* * *

DR: **Well, there you have it. I hope you have all enjoyed this latest installment in the 'Legacies' arc. But don't despair! Another (yes, _another_...) installment is in early planning stages. Before I crack on with that though I'll be taking a break, maybe post some of the other, smaller stories that have been ticking over lately... In any case, keep on flying!


End file.
